


Living Without Worry

by Kalloway



Series: Brightest Blue Eyes [9]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-04 03:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/pseuds/Kalloway
Summary: A new threat arrives in Mideel, Pretty heads to Midgar, and is everything truly what it seems?(The Final 'Brightest Blue Eyes' Arc.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted Aug. 29th, 2005. 
> 
> (minor edits)
> 
> At this point, I'd stopped posting anything BBE-related to FFN, iirc. I knew it had wandered pretty far afield, so I kept it to my journal and personal archive. The 'originally posted' dates are going to get pretty telling, too, in a lot of ways. ^^;; 
> 
> "Let's begin... Originally this arc was supposed to be a lot grander with an impossible villain, etc. and that idea got shunted off for a future unrelated FFVII story. This one is fun, too, though..."

Rae looked up, a little confused at the sudden exhale of breath and the soft murmur of her old name. Despite not hearing it for such a long time, she was surprised at how quickly she responded.

And besides, she hadn't opened for the day yet - the door was just unlocked so that her deliverymen could come and go as they pleased without letting in half as many flies as opening the back doors would.

"I'm not open yet," Rae responded, trying not to let the pair of men know how shaken she truly was. Immediately she recognized them - not by name but by uniform. The dark suits, tasteful and completely out of place in the morning haze of Mideel, still made her shake from her days in the dark parts of Midgar. Turks. Turks that knew her name.

"Always did wonder what happened to your pretty little ass," the smaller, seedier looking of the pair said, sliding up to the bar. "Never thought you'd have run all the way to Mideel."

"I said that I'm not open," Rae reiterated, this time in a much harsher tone. "Whomever you are looking for, I am not that person."

"Chill," the other man said, glancing at his partner. "We were told that some of the people here are amnesiacs. Who says this isn't one of 'em?"

"Gimme something with a dirty name," the first man continued, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

Rae sighed and started grabbing ingredients. When she turned back with the finished drink, both men were sitting at the bar, sunglasses finally off, watching her as closely as they could.

"Here," Rae said, slamming the drink down on the bar.

"What's it called?" the first man asked, poking at the gaudy dill pickle springing from the top of the glass.

"A Little Fucking Twink Who Needs His Ass Fucked," Rae replied, turning to reach back into her card box and hold out the mixing instructions to the suddenly speechless men. "I used cream instead of milk since I'm out and I'm not open yet, but you won't notice."

"She got you, Reno," the second man said. "I think I should just order a beer."

"It's ten in the morning," Rae reminded them both. "But since you're here, I'll offer a trade - I give you these drinks if you tell me why you're here."

"We're the ones who ask for information," Reno said, making sure Rae was watching as he plucked the pickle free and ran his tongue obscenely over it.

"How about we share," Rae proposed, getting the still-unnamed man his drink before grabbing a glass of water for herself.

"Fair enough," the second man said. "You can call me Rude. This is Reno, and you're..."

"Rae," Rae said. "No last name, to speak of. And I know you're Turks, but I don't know why I know you're Turks, save that Turks come from ShinRa and ShinRa comes from Midgar, which I apparently am from."

"We're here because we heard about something a little stranger than Mako beasts and Lifestream ruptures," Reno said, giving the tip of his pickle a nibble before thrusting it back into his drink.

"You're in the wrong town," Rae replied. "Unless you think Old Man Forthingham's back hair may be of use to the hydro-electrification of the planet."

Rude winced. Reno seemed bored. Rae feared that she was losing the upper hand.

"We had a couple of strange phone calls about a man with wings," Rude said bluntly. "And unless you can give me a quick explanation for that..."

Rae paused and thought, pretending to look perplexed even after she realized a quick solution was at hand.

"Vincent Valentine," she finally said, thankful that her brain had so quickly recalled that Vincent might possibly still have connections with ShinRa and also that Vincent was quite capable of sprouting wings at inopportune moments.

But she knew these men were here after Angel and she didn't know why. Turks were never good news to anyone, and for someone without any past, Rae was fairly sure that they weren't here to whisk him back away to the good life.

"Vin..." Reno began. "Dammit! We were stuck for fourteen hours in that tiny airplane because Valentine..."

"Mr. Valentine is one of our associates," Rude said quickly. "And why no one immediately thought of him... He does file plenty of plans to stay in this area."

"I'm gonna kill Reeve," Reno said. "Kill him..."

His drink was downed a moment later, and forgetting about foreplay with the garnish, he stalked off across the restaurant, cigarette still in hand.

"Reno..." Rude slid off his stool, waving to the bartender. "C'mon, let's just find Elena..."

Rae slumped to the floor once the men had vanished out the door. She knew she had to call Angel and tell him what had just transpired, but she wasn't sure how to handle the news that one of her favorite visitors was one of the bad guys. Surely that was a mistake... There was no way that the soft-spoken and kind Vincent Valentine was a Turk. And certainly she hadn't sent her best friend off with him with her blessing.

From the floor, she hooked the phone cord with a glass and pulled the entire thing down to her. She would be able to hear the door if it opened, at least, while her legs refused to listen to her.

She knew the number for the resort by heart. But the fact that no one was answering what she knew were painfully shrill cries had her worried.

"'Ello? Heaven's Cloud Resort," a thick voice finally answered.

"Yuki," Rae said, finally exhaling. "This is Miss Rae in town. Is either Angel or Cloud around?"

"Angel is out with the chocobos and Cloud went into town for a few things," Yuki said. "Is something wrong?"

Rae paused. "No, nothing's wrong. Just wanted to ask if either had the address for where Pretty will be staying. I was going to send a package."

A decent lie, she thought, and not a half bad idea.

"So please just have one of them call me as soon as you can..."

"Can do, Miss Rae," Yuki said. Rae hung up the receiver and tried to get off the floor. Hopefully the phone would ring. Hopefully...

Things were beginning to get deep, she knew, but how deep she could only fathom. Tiny bits of information were beginning to gel in her mind. Cloud had been a SOLDIER, Vincent was a Turk, Pretty was in Midgar, Angel was...

Yes, what was Angel?

Rae was thankful that she hadn't yet started to clean the bar, else she knew she would have dropped at least one glass down to shatter on the cold tile floor.

* * *

Cloud stretched his arms above his head, thankful for a one-morning reprieve from chocobo-duty. It wasn't that he didn't like the beasts- he adored them. But sometimes it was nice to have a little break from the long slog of making sure they were set for the day. The rare times when he had Pretty as an assistant were a blessing - usually in the mornings she was too busy trying to get laundry going, especially since Hikari had gotten too big to feel comfortable going up and down the basement stairs.

He had his list in hand and thankfully it was fairly simple. But if there was one thing Cloud knew that Sephiroth hated, it was shopping.

Milk.  
Bread.  
Check Post Office For Towels!!  
Pound of Flat-Head Screws.

Flat-Head Screwdriver.

Cloud chuckled at the last item on the list. But he knew well enough that even with Yuki managing most of the resort's repairs, tools had a habit of wandering away when unattended and a pound of screws would be no good without a screwdriver.

He couldn't even think what would possibly need to be put back together, other than one of the hinges on Cottage #3's screen door and maybe the toilet paper holder in #5 if the guests were being rough on it.

The pair of exclamation points about the towels amused Cloud as well. Sephiroth was overly picky about making things match, at least when it came to linens within the cottages. Not everything had to match each other in the grand scheme, but colors had to stay together. Cloud knew that if Pretty ran the resort, every cottage would have a rainbow of linens and no one would likely pay it any attention.

But detail, always attention to detail.

The hardware store was first, actually, since Cloud didn't want to lug two gallons of milk all over town. He glanced over at the Ray of Light, making a mental note to stop and say a quick hello to its proprietress later, as he walked by, wondering if he still had the glow to his face that Rae would always tease him about if she caught him.

He couldn't help it, really... He couldn't help that Sephiroth had snuck up behind him on the porch before the last of the morning mist had faded from the clearing between house and barn and made an offer with his body that couldn't be refused.

As he turned onto the side-street that would lead him to the hardware store, he stretched again, closing his eyes and quite accidentally bumping into whomever had been turning the corner in the other direction.

"Cloud?"

Cloud blinked, trying to figure out why anyone, especially an attractive thirty-something woman, would be wearing a full suit in Mideel. Then it hit him and he froze.

"Elena..."

"Is this where you live now?" she asked, reaching to grab at the blond hair that spilled over his shoulders. "You look like one of the crazy islanders now."

"Why are you here?" Cloud asked, shoving his list into one of his pockets. It could wait, for now.

"Got sent down here to... wait! You were always good at this, tricking me into telling you things that I'm not supposed to. No way, Cloud, even though I like you well enough." Elena crossed her arms over her chest and stood still.

"But I live here," Cloud said. "If you're looking for someone, I might be able to help."

"Cloud!"

Cloud turned at the sound of another familiar-yet-not-familiar voice. Two more dark-suited Turks were heading in their direction. Cloud tried not to groan.

And then his voice escaped him completely -- he had something to hide, something the ShinRa would not take away from him.

"There you are, Elena," Reno said, distaste obvious in his voice. "We looked everywhere for you. This whole job's a bust - turns out that our mysterious flying man is likely just Valentine on vacation."

"All that time stuck on that plane..." Elena's face fell and she sighed. "I really wish Reeve would put a little more thought into our missions."

"But we did hear that our pal Mr. Strife here works at a resort," Rude interjected. "And since we're here, we may as well take a little extra time writing up a proper report. From a nice luxury cottage with breakfast in bed."

Cloud wondered if passing out would keep the Turks away from the resort. He wondered if anything would keep them from finding Sephiroth, because for all he knew at any second Sephiroth would come wandering into town to get Chocobo Chow which really should have been on the list because they were running low and it was a wonderful new supplement developed to replace some of the greens that were too terribly expensive for an amateur racer to buy...

Passing out, yes, that was better than thinking too much. But Cloud held his ground, weakly nodding.

"Actually, we're doing repairs right now," Cloud said quickly. "I'm on my way to the hardware store, actually. You'd all be better off staying somewhere else in town."

"I'm fairly handy with a few things," Reno replied, circling Cloud and reaching to finger the same long strands that Elena had finally let from her grasp. "I think you're going to let us stay."

Too much protesting and they would know something was up. Cloud finally nodded, wondering just how he was ever going to keep three nosy Turks away from one formerly dead godling.

"But," he said quickly, "it'll take a couple of hours for me to get the place ready. A--My--We're missing a maid right now because she's sick. Please just stay in town a little longer and then come out the far west path."

And as soon as he was out of sight, he ran.

* * *

"Close your mouth," Vincent said, reaching to tilt Pretty's lower jaw back to its normal position. "You'll catch flies and get sick again."

"I am sick," Pretty said, continuing to take slow steps through the city. "Can't we take, um, a train or something?"

"We're on the sidewalk to the hospital," Vincent replied. "Trains do not run here. We are lucky that a taxi brought us here. And I've been listening to you whine for longer than I've ever wanted to. I know the headstrong fighter I met six years ago is in there somewhere and she's the only one I want to hear a peep from."

"Yes, sir," Pretty answered, trying to pick up her pace a bit. "I'm sorry."

Pretty thought she heard Vincent sigh, but she couldn't be sure. The building in front of them was huge - part of an original ShinRa hospital complex that hadn't been destroyed, Vincent had explained earlier. While only the one building was left, it was well enough equipped to treat patients and was a center of ongoing Mako poisoning research led by a pair of specialists. Vincent had apparently automatically thought of them once he realized how sick Pretty truly was.

"And remember, if anyone asks who you live with, just tell them about Cloud. We don't want any trouble."

"Vincent!"

Pretty looked up to see who was calling Vincent's name. Vincent seemed to miss a step at the sight of a dark-haired man in a suit.

"Reeve."

"Hello, still here," Pretty interjected, a little lost as the men went through a particularly terse handshake.

"I heard you were coming from Mideel," the man named Reeve said, glancing at Pretty and raising an eyebrow.

"That's correct. This is Cloud Strife's adopted younger sister. As you can likely tell, she's suffering from acute Mako poisoning," Vincent explained coolly.

"Miss Strife." Reeve extended a hand to a fairly confused Pretty who was not expecting a firm grip. She lost her balance and nearly tumbled into Reeve's arms.

"I'm sick," she mumbled, a little embarrassed to be held by someone she had just met.

"Then you're in the right place," Reeve replied, scooping her up and carrying her to the door. "Vincent, something strange has been going on down in Mideel, but if you've been there, I can only assume that you're part of the cause."

"Huh?" Pretty asked, trying to pull her sweater tighter around her body. Despite her new friend not wearing a jacket, she was absolutely freezing.

"If you're talking about repeated creature sightings, that would likely be me, yes," Vincent said, red eyes flashing in Pretty's direction. She closed her mouth and resolved to keep it that way before she did get either herself or anyone in Mideel into actual trouble.

"I figured as much," Reeve said. "But I figured too late -- I already sent Rude, Reno and Elena down there. They'll probably want to kill me once they figure out they're chasing one of their own, but let 'em have the vacation, right?"

"You sent Turks to Mideel," Vincent repeated, just to make sure he'd heard it right the first time. "And you expect them to stay for a vacation?"

"Cloud does work at a resort," Reeve replied, pausing at the door since he couldn't very well open it with his arms full of a suddenly stiff woman.

"Well, yes," Vincent said. And he couldn't think of a single other thing to add -- certainly not anything that could be said in mixed company. Cloud was a lucky man - despite his past, he was a damned lucky man in the end. Hopefully that luck would hold out. Hopefully some miracle would appear to keep Mideel's biggest secret safe.

Vincent opened the door and held it while Reeve carried Pretty inside.

"Is this your first time?" Reeve asked suddenly. "With Mako poisoning?"

"At least my second," Pretty replied, trying to smile. Reeve had white hairs mixed in with the black on his face and she was fighting the urge to reach and try to pull them out. "But you aren't a doctor, are you?"

"I'm not," Reeve said. "But I consider Cloud a good friend. So I'd like to get to know you."

"Oh," Pretty wondered if she was blushing. "Right."

"You two should be able to manage," Vincent said suddenly from behind them. "I do have places to go."

"Vin..."

But he was gone.

"He's a hard one to know," Reeve said, turning to bump the up button of the elevator with his elbow. "But you probably know that."

"Yeah," Pretty said. "I guess. But you said that Cloud is a friend of yours? Please tell me embarrassing stories!"

Reeve's laughter filled the elevator as he set Pretty down on the floor. "If you're well enough for dinner, I'd like that. Maybe not tonight, but..."

"I'm not going to die," Pretty said suddenly. "So don't worry. I'm tough. I have to get better and go home so I can train chocobos with Cloud and see Hikari's baby and... It's not that I gave up. But when I felt good I did too much so then I didn't feel good and..."

"Shh..." Reeve crouched down by her and patted her head. "You'll get a new start here. There are things that the doctors here can do that no other doctors can."

"Do you think they can find my name, too?" Pretty asked suddenly, a little surprised that she hadn't thought of it before. "And my birthday. Just in case someone made a record..."

"Your name?"

"They named me Pretty when they pulled me from the Lifestream, but I don't remember anything before. A--I was told I was good with a sword. I never asked Vincent or Cloud but... Could I have been in the military? Do... do you think someone knows who I am?" Pretty didn't realize she was crying until tears hit her cheeks.

"Pretty..."

The elevator dinged, and again Reeve scooped Pretty into his arms.

"Most of the records were lost," Reeve admitted. "So even if you were, without even basic details to search with, like a name or birth date..."

"Oh."

"But let's get you better, first. Then we can see about finding you a past."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth isn't worried about the Turks; Pretty meets her doctors; and Cloud admits that spending half his teenage years in a tube didn't do a thing for his math skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted Sep. 22nd, 2005. 
> 
> (minor edits)
> 
> It took several chapters for the title to shake out between 'Life Without Worry' (from a line at the end of Wishes With Wings) and 'Living Without Worry', which flows a little better but flubs the quote. Of course, the flub won out in the end, but I have over the years referred to the story both ways.

Somewhere... Sephiroth had to be somewhere...

Cloud ran through the barn, hoping that he'd see a bit of silver bobbing above one of the stall doors. But no...

"Angel!"

There was no answer. Running through the yard, he glanced around him. Everything was quiet.

"Angel!" He burst through the back door and ran down the hallway, looking into each room and nearly skidding into the wall when he saw the object of his search seated calmly in the office, ear glued to the telephone receiver.

Sephiroth... on the telephone... Cloud winced. Sephiroth hated the telephone like the plague. And Yuki was around somewhere. He could have easily answered...

Sephiroth held a finger up to his lips as a gesture for Cloud to stay quiet.

"Yes, I believe Cloud has just returned with the same information," he said, a thin smile parking itself on his lips. "I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more, Rae, but for now, please just trust in me. And in Vincent."

Silence. Cloud leaned on the door-frame and watched, looking for any telltale sign that Sephiroth had any idea just how serious this trouble was.

"Take care as well. Bye."

The phone clicked audibly as Sephiroth set it back onto its cradle and before Sephiroth could as much as turn in Cloud's direction, Cloud had himself shoved into Sephiroth's personal space.

"They're coming here," Cloud said, eyes wide with terror anew. "Here."

"I'm not entirely sure that will be good for business," Sephiroth replied, closing his eyes in thought.

Cloud's jaw dropped.

"They'll... I don't know what they'll do..."

"I believe I'm legally dead," Sephiroth replied. "And I highly doubt two Turks could so much as bruise me. All my scars are your doing."

"Is that a compliment?" Cloud pulled himself up to sit on the desk.

"Yes. And I'll assume you expect me to hole up somewhere for the duration of their visit. But I'm not afraid of them. From talking to Vincent, who Rae assures me is actually a Turk spy, ShinRa is at only a fraction of its former power and is more interested in doing actual good instead of the fake good of old," Sephiroth said, leaning back in his chair. It tilted a bit, creaking on elderly springs.

A war god. Somehow Cloud had nearly forgotten that beneath the mild-mannered businessman exterior was a great war god.

"Three Turks," Cloud corrected, mind buzzing. "And Vincent is a what? I mean, I know that back thirty-odd... Yes, he works with them, but... Is Rae okay?"

"She's shaken, but fine," Sephiroth said. "She's worried about Pretty, but I have complete faith in Vincent."

"All of that aside," Cloud said, leaning forward and trying to make a point. "We still have to hide you."

"No, bring them here. Let them see..."

"No!" Cloud looked down. He felt like a child, swinging his legs over the edge of the desk. "No... We've been so happy."

There was a pause in the sunlit room. Dust particles danced in the morning sunshine, but neither looked up to notice.

"I have always meant to clean the attic," Sephiroth said finally. "Everything up there came with the place."

"Really? You would..."

"But what about Yuki and Hikari? What about Kei? What about everyone Rae and everyone in town? How are you going to explain that I'm hiding in the attic for the next however-long?"

"Um..."

"Not that I really think I need to. You and Pretty are the only ones in town who have any inkling that my memory stretches back beyond ten years ago. I'm sure some of them have suspicions if not full knowledge as to who I really am, but they don't care.

"Cloud, I've had guests remark on my appearance, too. But I look fifteen years too young to be a man who died more than fifteen years ago," Sephiroth said, catching Cloud's eyes with his own. "However, I will attempt to sequester myself in the attic, so long as you figure out how to run this place without me, Pretty, and Hikari."

Cloud winced. For the last six years he'd mainly done physical labor and let Sephiroth do all the actual managerial tasks. Even Pretty knew how to type better than he could ever dream of.

"Okay," he said slowly, letting himself be surprised by a kiss.

"Give them cabins #4 and #7," Sephiroth said, once he'd settled back into his chair. "And call Hikari's little sister and ask if she'd like a part-time job for a couple of weeks."

"Me?" Cloud questioned, regarding the telephone with the same disgust that Sephiroth usually reserved for it.

"I'm going to my attic," Sephiroth answered, standing and walking out of the room.

As Cloud slid off the desk, he realized that strangely enough, he had lost anyway. He had won, but he had lost anyway.

And they would need towels. Sighing, Cloud trudged back through the house and grabbed the ring of master keys from where it hung on the wall. Cottage #4 would get checked first... it was bigger, big enough for both Rude and Reno, unless... Cloud winced at the thought that either of them had managed to hook up with Elena. She was nice enough, and certainly attractive enough, but somehow an intraorganization hookup did not sound like a good idea.

Okay, Cottage #4 would be good for Rude and Reno. Two single beds... Hopefully they hadn't hooked up... Reno's sexuality always had been a bit questionable and...

Plenty of towels. Cloud closed the cottage door behind him and walked down to Cottage #7. Red towels, more than enough. He could do this. He could step out of the shadow he'd not even realized that he'd become so comfortable in.

Now he had to wait. And the shopping wasn't done, either. But that would have to be done after the Turks showed up, whenever they showed up.

Walking back into the house, Cloud decided now would be a great time to call Hikari's little sister, Matsuko, and ask her to come do some chores. Matsuko was sixteen now, shy, but Cloud knew he could keep her away from any lecherous advances.

* * *

"This is Doctor Perrin Lothaire," Reeve said as he gestured with the arm not supporting Pretty to the middle-aged doctor that met them just past the nurses' station on the floor Reeve had chosen. There was a set of sliding glass doors as well, behind him, and Pretty's gaze flicked to them for just a moment - metal ran through them and she frowned. This was obviously a place not meant to be escaped from. "He and his wife Ysole are currently among the most well-versed doctors in the world when it comes to Mako poisoning and the after effects of any long-term Mako exposure."

Pretty tried to smile, but she couldn't exactly admit to being happy because something seemed really, really odd.

"We'll have you on your feet in no time," Dr. Lothaire said, reaching out a hand. "But I'd like to do a thorough exam first.”Ysole will be with us as soon as she's done checking in on another patient."

"Are there others here, like me?" Pretty asked, taking Dr. Lothaire's hand and giving Reeve one last glance before letting herself be led off down a brightly lit hallway.

"There are three others currently being treated for Mako poisoning, and a handful more are here being tested for ill-effects of long-term exposure," Dr. Lothaire explained. "This floor does also house some other, special patients, as you may well have guessed. You'll be completely safe in your room though, even if there's a necessary lock-down."

Pretty nodded. There was her explanation even if it wasn't the most reassuring. "That's okay, I guess. I don't really go anywhere, anyway. I get so sleepy."

"Perrin." A woman, just a bit younger than Dr. Lothaire came rushing over, clipboard in hand. "Is this the woman we've been expecting?"

"Ah, Ysole, yes, this is Pretty... no last name?"

"No last name," Pretty replied. "I've never needed one."

"This is Dr. Ysole Lothaire," Dr. Lothaire said, nodding. "But since she and I have the same name, most patients refer to her as Dr. Ysole."

"You're just a girl," Dr. Ysole said, reaching to brush wild brown hair from Pretty's face. "The paperwork we have said you were thirty, but..."

"I am," Pretty interjected. "Well, maybe. I don't remember anything beyond about eight years ago."

"Mako does have an effect on the way memories are processed and retained," Dr. Ysole said. "Likely you still have all of your original memories but they are behind a sort of wall that the Mako helped create."

"I just know I was fished out of a Lifestream rupture in Mideel, like many others," Pretty explained. "It seems to be the planet's dumping ground."

"And this was..."

"Eight years ago... maybe more closer to nine now," Pretty said, climbing up onto the metal exam table she'd been led to. "But then I sort of got in the way of another rupture..."

Dr. Lothaire nodded. "We're going to do blood tests and check everything we can, but I'm fairly sure you just need proper rest and a virtual stew of carefully balanced vitamins, electrolytes, and minerals."

"Hourly monitoring and adjustments... the sort of thing Mideel just isn't equipped for," Dr. Ysole finished. "And complete bed rest if necessary."

Pretty winced. "I'll get out of practice. I'm a fighter!"

"You sound like a former SOLDIER we had a few months back," Dr. Lothaire said, adjusting his stethoscope and pressing against Pretty's chest. "Now breathe deep."

Breathing as deep as she could, Pretty tried not to start coughing, or talking. She really wanted to explain that she was going home to a former SOLDIER who would throw her across the yard if she wasn't back to tip-top well-practiced shape.

"There is a gym on the lowest level," Dr. Ysole said, attempting a smile. "I believe there might be someone here willing to spot you."

"Oh!" Pretty started coughing, beginning a fit that left her out of breath and flopped back on the table.

"I believe we can start with some basics," Dr. Lothaire said, nodding at his wife. "Take her to a room and get her changed while I prepare an IV. Tomorrow we should be able to get the amount of blood we need to properly check everything."

Once he left the room, Dr. Ysole smiled again. "You're going to be just fine."

"I hear that alot," Pretty replied, looking up at the ceiling tile. No one in Mideel really had ceiling tile, but she'd seen it before when she'd traveled to the Western Continent, somewhere she couldn't really remember. But they'd also been mad that she didn't want to wear shoes in the building. Some people... She was wearing shoes now anyway, black with white laces, but not because she wanted to, because she was cold. Everything seemed so cold.

"But you will," she held a hand out to help Pretty to her feet. "And to bring you here, someone must really care about you."

"This must be really expensive." Pretty hadn't even thought of that. Angel certainly couldn't be paying for this even though he did have money tucked away. And Vincent... Pretty realized that she didn't know much of anything about what he did when not in Mideel with her.

That was a dark feeling, the sort of thing she wasn't used to. Outside of Mideel, she tended to think of the world as being rather vague, not even really happening since she wasn't watching it.

"Normally, yes, but there has already been an order sent through that ShinRa will handle your recovery," Dr. Ysole explained. "Perhaps you're going to be recruited for something."

"I don't think so..." Pretty began, wondering. Vincent had rushed off so quickly and Reeve hadn't stayed with her, either.

"A single room," Dr. Ysole announced, opening the door to a small private room. "I didn't see any suitcases..."

"They're being sent by courier."

"Make yourself at home then. There's a gown on the bed and sometimes the television works."

"Television?" Pretty asked, trying to remember why the word was familiar.

* * *

Two days later, Cloud found himself ready to scream. Along with never learning to type, he was absolutely terrible at math, something he'd come to think of as not really being his problem. Instead of higher education, he'd lived in a tank for some five years. So anything beyond basic addition just happened to escape him.

Putting down his pencil and noticing that he'd used most of the eraser in a little under an hour, Cloud listened to what seemed to be the new white noise of the house.

Clatter. Clatter. Ching. Whoosh. Clatter...

It was becoming too much. Stalking up the stairs, Cloud pulled down the trapdoor that released the ladder to the attic and scrambled upward.

"Would. You. Stop. That?!"

Sephiroth turned from where he had a battered pachinko machine propped against the wall, hand on the lever, waiting to send another tiny steel ball through the maze of pins to hopefully land in a flower or fish-mouth.

"If you expect me to sit up here..."

"Can't you, y'know, clean?" Cloud asked, pointing at the mountains of boxes that towered to the peak of the roof.

"I have been," Sephiroth answered. "And besides, I found this up here so it's only fair that I can... properly study it."

Sighing, Cloud watched as Sephiroth released the lever and attempted to will the ball into a waiting flower. It missed though, and Sephiroth got to his feet, walking over to where Cloud stood.

"That can't be the only reason you're up here," he said, pulling Cloud into a loose embrace.

"I can't do math," Cloud admitted. "I'll have to bring that up to you too."

"Can't do math?" Sephiroth repeated, chuckling a bit.

"Hey, not all of ShinRa's bio-genetic test-subjects had the benefit of algebra," Cloud shot back, trying to pull away.

"Why don't you bring the paperwork up here and I can show you," Sephiroth said, dropping his arms and waiting to see what Cloud would do.

In an instant, Cloud was back down the ladder, thankfully not letting the trapdoor spring upward. It wasn't as though Sephiroth couldn't easily push it down and leave whenever he desired, but Cloud leaving it down meant that Cloud was going to come back.

Cloud rushed down to the office, grabbing paperwork and pencils and a calculator into his arms before bounding back towards the attic. If nothing else, Sephiroth would know where the numbers for column two should be coming from and that might really be half the problem. Especially since that would eliminate the need for X. Whatever X was.

Clatter. Clatter.

...Clatter.

Cloud paused in the upstairs hallway, shaking his head. A quick thought about accidentally breaking that damned pachinko machine flashed through his head, as did the obvious follow-thru at the wrong end of the Masamune.

Clatter.

At least with some proper math at hand, perhaps Sephiroth would leave the darned thing alone.

Ching. Whoosh.

Or not.

"Okay," Cloud said one he was back at the top of the ladder. "I think all I really need to know is where the numbers for this second column come from. Because I have all sorts of numbers, but..."

"Bring it here," Sephiroth interjected from beside the pachinko machine. All the flowers sat open, providing what Cloud knew to be nearly unavoidable temptation.

Cloud walked over and sat down, cross-legged before spreading the papers out on the floor.

"This column," he said, pointing. "Where do these numbers come from?"

With a sigh, Sephiroth reached over and flipped through a few of the other pages before grabbing one.

"Here," he said. "From here and nearly in order. You just have to pull them over and either add or subtract to get the variances."

"That's it?" Cloud asked, feeling a little dumber than usual. Actually knowing what the sheets of figures were made them a little easier to understand. But he'd missed what had to be quite obvious.

"I can do this fairly quickly," Sephiroth said, grabbing all of the papers and the pencil tucked behind Cloud's ear.

"But the deal was..."

Those green eyes narrowed in a warning gaze before diving down to the pages now neatly organized on the floor. And true to his word, Sephiroth did seem to be flying through things. Cloud couldn't even fathom that sort of math without writing in the margins, something Sephiroth had probably never done, ever.

His eyes darted over to those beautiful wooden flowers, beckoning to be filled. Taking one last glance at Sephiroth, Cloud reached a hand out to the lever...

Clatter. A miss? Clatter. Ching. Whoosh!

Steel balls filled the reward trough and Cloud smiled. Right before he was knocked onto the floor.

"You can't complain about me playing with it now," Sephiroth said before kissing Cloud. The uneven boards of the attic floor were far from comfortable against Cloud's back, but with Sephiroth's mouth over his, tongue licking at his lips, comfort was entirely relative anyway.

"Just one... two balls. I had to try," Cloud replied once he could. He couldn't ignore the hands creeping down his chest, pulling his shirt upward at the same time.

"I've always made things too easy for you." Sephiroth paused, looking behind him before standing up and heading off behind one of the stacks of boxes.

Cloud managed to at least be sitting up by the time Sephiroth reappeared holding a rapidly unfolding off-white quilt.

"You've been up here too long," Cloud said, not moving as he watched Sephiroth spread it over those roughly hewn boards. "But... that's my fault, isn't it?"

"I don't see you running away," Sephiroth replied, undoing the buttons to his own shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

"Mmm," Cloud replied, pretending to be deep in thought. "Listening to the noise from that toy or listening to you moan..."

Not entirely surprisingly, within about ten seconds Cloud found himself quite naked and half-sprawled out on that quilt, noticing that yes, it was quite comfortable but really more concerned with watching Sephiroth slide out of the rest of his clothing.

"Angel..." Cloud reached to pull Sephiroth down to his knees, reaching to take Sephiroth's arousal in his hands before bringing it to his mouth. As he licked the tip, he had the briefest of thoughts about following this through and then claiming Sephiroth's body with his own. But this was certainly not the time nor the place. Not on Sephiroth's temporary turf, no...

Oh, but he could still tease, tracing curves he knew by heart as his tongue slowly trailed farther, finally pulling what he could into his mouth and asking with his hands for shallow thrusts.

Not even wanting to fathom just how or why Sephiroth decided that keeping lube in the attic would be a proper thing, Cloud found himself very quickly on his back, lips still parted as he looked up into piercing green.

"Hey..."

"Not this time," Sephiroth interrupted, pushing Cloud's legs apart. Cloud closed his eyes, paying little attention to the flicker of movement to his right. Fingers pressed into his body, spreading pleasure as they stretched him. Grabbing at the thick quilt, Cloud moaned, wondering if he should grab his own erection or if his hands would just get knocked away.

He gasped as those fingers were pulled away, a little surprised that Sephiroth was suddenly pulling him up, placing him on his hands and knees.

"Trust me," Sephiroth replied to the unasked question, and Cloud knew he should. Dropping to support his weight on his forearms, Cloud couldn't help the near-howl that escaped his mouth as Sephiroth very quickly thrust into him, leaving no time for adjustment before beginning a series of deep, hard thrusts. But it felt good - it felt very good, actually, and was probably what they both needed.

Pushed forward, sliding a bit on the quilt from Sephiroth's thrusts, Cloud opened his eyes and was more than a little surprised to find himself staring at his reflection. His gasp was muffled, mixed in with too many other pleasure noises, as he stared, realizing that when he'd been standing, the old half-covered mirror hadn't been visible at all. But now... Now it was showing everything.

Sephiroth seemed oblivious, eyes either closed or so far downcast that Cloud couldn't tell the difference. So the mirror belonged solely to Cloud who was trying to keep his eyes open as he matched sight to sensation. He didn't even feel like he was in his own body, instead just a strange voyeur to two beautiful people sharing a very special moment. But as Sephiroth's hand wrapped around his arousal, Cloud couldn't help being reminded that he was very much involved.

Somehow, for all the times they'd done this, even with mirrors around, something was completely different. Whether it was spider-lines in the aged mirror or just the absolute strangeness of the situation, Cloud didn't care. It was hot to the point of being too hot and he closed his eyes, unable to watch for a few seconds as he tried not to come.

Too late though, his body told him, rocking against Sephiroth's now, forcing pressure inside his body to match that outside. And looking down past his own glowing blue eyes, he managed to see just a second of his orgasm before he dug at the quilt and squeezed his eyes shut, nearly overwhelmed with bliss. Crying out, he was happy to at least be able to feel the change in Sephiroth's motions, even if he couldn't bring himself to look over to that delicious mirror again.

Yes, Sephiroth's noises of pleasure were so much better than the noises of that clattering toy, Cloud noted as he braced himself against the floor, pushed downward as Sephiroth came. But his arms gave anyway, sending them both crashing to the floor.

When Cloud opened his eyes, he was looking into his own again, reaching to brush silver aside to see better before realizing what he was doing. And then another pair of eyes met his in the mirror.

"Is this what you were looking at?" Sephiroth asked before softly kissing the back of Cloud's neck. "You were watching us."

"I..."

"Would you like it in the bedroom?"

Cloud wondered if indeed he was blushing. "Maybe, just, um..."

"Think about it," Sephiroth said as he pulled back, sitting up and pushing his hair back. "Think about it while you run downstairs and get me a cup of coffee. I promise I'll do all of the math."

Still not knowing just how Sephiroth was able to move so damned easily after something like that, Cloud shakily tried to stand and only found himself sprawled on the quilt again, looking up at dust particles dancing in the sun.

"Wasn't making that up about the coffee..." Cloud could hear the sound of pencil scratching on paper.

"In a minute," Cloud replied, not wanting to move at all. But he knew he had things to do, a resort to run, and three nosy Turks to keep occupied.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty fights cabin fever, Reno wanders around naked, Elena spills the plot points, and Pretty drops the toilet paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted Jan. 3rd, 2006.
> 
> (minor edits, as usual)

Pretty stretched, forgetting again that she still had an IV running into each arm to supply a continually changing cocktail of medicine, nutrition and sterile Mako to her body. But she felt like stretching, which was one of the better things from the last day or so.

The first time her medicine had been tweaked, she'd spent the better part of the day in Dr. Ysole's arms, too weak to keep her head up to vomit up the water she kept trying to drink.

But after that she'd done better, slowly. Still, she felt much too weak and much too useless. If medicine in Midgar was supposed to be some sort of step up from Mideel, she hadn't noticed anything.

She was warm though, which was a nice feeling. And even though the IV was pulling at her in a fairly unpleasant way, she kept her arms above her head, reveling in how good it felt to move her muscles without fatigue.

"Good morning," a voice said.

Pretty sat up quickly, fighting a bit of dizziness but trying not to show it. Vincent sat across the room on one of the rarely inhabited visitor's chairs. Already Reeve had checked on her once, but she'd been much too exhausted to ask him any questions.

"Vincent," she said, her voice raspy. A glass of water was within reach though. It always was. A few teenagers seemed to be employed as orderlies to take care of menial things.

"How are you feeling?" Vincent asked, watching her as she sipped nervously at the water. "Better?"

"Than what?" Pretty asked in return, setting her glass down before checking that her IV connections were still secure. Dr. Lothaire had taught her to do that, at least, the first day when she kept forgetting how limited her range really was.

"I don't know," Vincent replied. "And I apologize for leaving you so quickly the other day, but there was something I had to take care of."

"It's okay," Pretty said softly. She'd spent the better part of the first day coming to terms with the fact that Vincent did have a life away from her. Not just realizing it, but actually dealing with it. For all she knew, he had lovers and a family. She never asked, after all. Their friendship was strange enough as is.

"However, everything is under control now," Vincent continued. "So I believe I'll be spending quite a bit of time around the facility, if you don't mind. I did make a promise to Angel."

"I'd like that," Pretty admitted. "It's lonely when Dr. Ysole isn't visiting. And television isn't like having someone to actually talk to."

Vincent chuckled, shifting a bit in the chair. Pretty could see that he had his gun with him, even in the relative safety of the facility.

"Have you seen any of the other people here?" Pretty asked, looking up at one of the nearly empty bags suspended above her. "I hear them sometimes, moving around, but no one actually stops in. Doctor Ysole told me there were others here, others like me. But..."

"There are about a dozen residents in this part of the facility," Vincent said firmly. "But most are quite ill or need constant supervision. This is not a place for social calls."

Pretty nodded. That made a fair bit of sense after all.

And she wanted to keep talking, but she didn't know what to ask.

* * *

Cloud was ready to scream. Actually, he had screamed. But he had screamed into a pillow in the basement in a fit of frustration that hadn't been fit for anyone to see. Now he was ready to just march into the yard and do it, if only because it needed to be done.

Reno was naked again. And while nudity was far from bothersome, especially around the resort where it was practically encouraged, Reno just made it obscene.

Luckily it was their down season, when rain would fall most evenings and fog would blanket the town until nearly mid-morning. Luckily Matsuko was in the basement doing laundry and Hikari was slowly simmering soup with her mind set on onions, not Reno's pale ass as he meandered around the yard in the most ridiculous way possible. And no other guests were stuck being witness to the Turks for the next two days.

Cloud wanted to tell him to just pick a spot and lay down; no place was any more or less comfortable. He hadn't looked at the pre-entry forms for the next Gold Saucer amateurs race, the big one held annually, for the last hour they'd sat on his lap. He'd been invited, despite it still being some six months away.

Throwing the forms under his chair, Cloud stalked off the porch, wishing he could make it rain just so Reno would go running back to his cabin. Rude was off cooking himself in the springs and Elena was happily shopping on her own after getting the tour from Matsuko, but Reno...

"Reno!" Cloud called, waving to the man and trying to smile. It wasn't working so well. "You'll tan better if you stay in one spot and lay down."

"Not trying to tan," Reno replied, leering in Cloud's direction and trying to divert Cloud's eyes lower on his anatomy. It wasn't working. Six years of seeing every body-type imaginable without clothing had really made him stop thinking about anyone besides Sephiroth in a sexual sense.

Yet he feared what had probably been the obvious conclusion to begin with. Reno was going to try to seduce him.

"When are you leaving, anyway?" Cloud asked, meeting eyes with a familiar Mako glow. "I need to know how many nights to bill to ShinRa for."

"Right, that report..." Reno glanced skyward. "Well, when that's written and Rude calls for a plane, that's when we leave."

"I'm charging on-season rates, too," Cloud said, trying to smirk. "No reservations."

"Ain't coming out of my pocket," Reno replied, closing the space between his body and Cloud's. "Especially since I'm not wearing any."

"I'd noticed," Cloud said, standing his ground even as Reno reached for some of the long blond hair he hadn't pulled back into its usual ponytail. "However, I do have guests with proper reservations coming in a few days."

"You're no fun, Strife," Reno said, dropping Cloud's hair before circling, reaching to tug at Cloud's shirt. "Thought I'd be seeing more of you. But this could become a permanent vacation spot."

"Reno," Cloud warned, grabbing Reno's wrist and twisting it. He was still a few times stronger than Reno and had the Turk on the ground in an instant, crying out a split-second before Cloud loosened his grip - before anything could snap.

And without looking back, Cloud marched back up to the porch and grabbed the chocobo racing forms and started filling them out. He hadn't screamed. Sephiroth would be happy. Maybe. He had kinda resorted to physical violence. But Reno wasn't exactly the easiest person to reason with, either.

A few minutes later, Cloud looked up to the sound of footsteps on the porch. Reno was standing there, still rubbing his arm but thankfully now wearing a pair of rumpled dark pants.

"You're still training," Reno said, glancing through the screen door into the house.

"House is off limits," Cloud reminded him. "To all guests, not just you. And yes, I still work out. There are still monsters here."

"Who do you have to train with you?" Reno asked, the question seeming quite innocent as he moved to sit on one of the chairs. "Can't imagine there being many other SOLDIERS down here."

"There's a woman," Cloud said. "She's with Vincent right now, though, in Midgar. I told you I was missing a maid."

"Amnesiac, right?" Reno questioned. "Met about a dozen of those in the last week. She your girlfriend? That why you decided to drop me?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Cloud said. "I'm not interested in women. Or most men, before you decide to make another comment."

"Me?" Reno asked, smirking. "Hey... I'll admit that it's fun getting under your skin but we aren't the bad guys anymore. We're in this together."

"I'm not so sure about that," Cloud said dully. "I didn't know Vincent was working with ShinRa again. He didn't mention it."

"Well, that was only a couple years ago, when we found... Nevermind," Reno said quickly, looking behind him. "Nothing to trouble you with. Just some interesting activity that we can handle. If we need a hero, we'll call."

Cloud raised an eyebrow, now genuinely curious. Whatever was interesting enough to lure Vincent willingly back into the service of ShinRa warranted a little more explanation. Perhaps keeping Reno around for a few more days would be handy.

Or Elena. Elena was friendly. Especially with a bottle of wine in her.

"We should go out for dinner later," Cloud said, a smile forming on his face. "Have you been to Rae's? It's a bar during the day but serves a full dinner in the evenings. Quite fancily, really."

It was Reno's turn to look confused. Cloud liked it. He had a plan.

* * *

"I don't like the sound of that," Sephiroth said, digging through a cardboard box of old linens, sorting them into piles. Cloud didn't know what each pile was for, and he was fairly sure he didn't want to know. But the doilies were all going into one pile, at least, and that made him feel a little better for some reason. Hopefully they were going to get sent out to the cottages or given to Hikari. The main house did not need doilies.

"I'm going to try to get Elena drunk and get it out of her," Cloud replied, wondering how much progress Sephiroth was actually making in the attic. It didn't look much different than before, just arranged in stranger piles.

"Cloud..."

"Something isn't right," Cloud said. "Reno basically told me that much. You know Vincent - maybe not as well as I do, but you know him. He wouldn't go back into service with ShinRa unless he had a very good reason. He has thousands of gil from back when we... Well, it isn't the money..."

He was pacing now, unable to stay in one spot even as Sephiroth sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting.

"I agree," Sephiroth said. "And I would like to know what Vincent is up to as well. But we can't let his current involvement taint our feelings towards what he's doing to help Pretty, either. I can't see those two things as related."

"No," Cloud agreed. "I don't think they are. A Mako-sick girl certainly wouldn't be useful to ShinRa, and besides, Reno said 'years'. If anyone was after Pretty, they would have done it sooner."

"You're right," Sephiroth stated, holding up a few red cloth napkins and inspecting them. "Which means that something is going on in the world that we are too isolated to know about. Perhaps you could call Tifa? I wouldn't trust Cid at this point - he and ShinRa have their hands in each other's back pockets."

"I know," Cloud said. "But let me try to get information from Elena tonight. I'll call Tifa tomorrow."

"Be careful," Sephiroth warned. "You can only resort to violence so many times."

"Against Reno? Never enough," Cloud replied, finally settling down enough to sit and watch Sephiroth pulling thing after thing from the box. "What is all of this, anyway?"

"I think if Matsuko feels particularly like staying in the basement tomorrow, we won't have to buy linens for years," Sephiroth said. "All this stuff has been up here for decades, from the look of it. But it's in good shape."

"Decades?"

"I found some clothing as well. I bet Vincent would get a kick out of it," Sephiroth replied, standing and stretching before retrieving another box. "Perhaps Reno as well. He's still quite lanky. There's some women's clothing as well, though I'm not sure who it would fit at the moment."

"Just don't look at me," Cloud muttered, looking into the box as Sephiroth opened it. "And as much as I like dust and nostalgia, I need to shower and get ready to face Rae with three Turks at my side."

"For Rae's sake, feel free to resort to violence after all," Sephiroth said, closing the box on the clothing and going back to the linens. "Once you leave, I'm going to start carrying these boxes down to the basement."

"Fine, fine," Cloud said, heading for the trapdoor.

* * *

He felt bad for Rae - really he did. Cloud was actually thankful that Rae seemed to have enough staff that all she needed to do was occasionally answer the phone but otherwise stay perched near the front door, looking warily over at where she'd quickly seated his group.

"Excuse me," he said, skipping out on his salad even though not a one of the Turks was really paying much attention to him. Apparently their entire meal stipends had run out and they were half-starved.

Sliding up to the bar, Cloud motioned for the bartender to come over. He couldn't remember the girl's name, but he wasn't too worried about it.

"Just keep drinks coming to my table, okay?" he said, sliding a few extra gil across the counter to her.

"Of course, Mr. Strife," she replied, smiling as she took the money. "That's not a problem."

Rae was watching him closely as he went back to the table. Mentally, he made a note to send her flowers as soon as the Turks left town for good.

By the time they'd finished dessert, Cloud knew his three companions were completely drunk. That was no small feat, either, considering what it took to shake his own insane tolerance to poisons of any sort.

They'd walked, the evening not yet having decided to drop torrential rain on the town. Everything was going according to plan.

Rude and Reno kept walking ahead, pointing stupidly at things and being a bit too loud, but Cloud let his attention be focused on Elena. He'd managed to find a dark-colored dress among Pretty's things that actually fit a good bit better on Elena's frame, accentuating curves that were never quite properly displayed under her usual attire.

She clung to his arm, walking slowly and precisely. At least she'd kept drinking, something she'd almost decided against, until Cloud promised to get her home safely.

"Thanks, Cloud," she said, smiling. "This place is so beautiful. Wish we'd get sent nice places more often."

"Where are you usually sent?" Cloud asked, hoping he sounded more concerned than anything. "I didn't even really know that the new ShinRa kept employing you."

"Information, mainly," Elena replied. "'Specially with all the problems that Dr. Hojo left behind."

"Problems?" Cloud asked. He could see Reno up ahead, pants unzipped and pissing in the bushes.

A few seconds later, as Elena began a rambling explanation, Cloud forgot all about Reno. He forgot all about talking, too, until the pair were nearly back to the resort.

* * *

Pretty tried the door handle again, wondering why her door was locked from the outside and just why every light had popped on in the entire place despite it being fairly late at night. The term 'lock-down' wasn't familiar to her, but she assumed this was one. One of the less stable patients must have done something, but... The curtains shielding her room from the hallway were in-between layers of glass, controllable only from the outside. She knew the lights were on because it was too bright for the evening and she was awake because the steady beeping that alerted the nurses that her IV had emptied was keeping her from sleeping. But she had to be a low priority at the moment.

Fast footsteps raced by her room, at least four people this time.

A scream pierced the relative silence. Pretty pushed at the door handle again but it did not give.

Voices, again, but she couldn't make them out through the door. And more running.

Another scream echoed through the hall. Pretty could only imagine that whomever was screaming had to be nearby. But there was no possible angle for her to see into the hallway.

Five minutes of silence passed. Then ten. As she went back to sit on her bed, there was an audible click as the lock released and before she could get to the door, it was thrust open and Dr. Lothaire walked in.

"Are you okay?" he asked, motioning for her to head back to her bed and get her IV reconnected. He had a pair of bags in one hand and switched them effortlessly for the empties. "I hope you know you were perfectly safe in here."

"I know," Pretty said. "Vincent told me that there were some people here who needed constant supervision. It's okay."

"You're up," Dr. Lothaire continued. "And you certainly look quite a bit better. Perhaps in another week you'll be ready to start physical rehabilitation as well."

"Two days," Pretty announced, smiling. "I want to start in two days."

"Pretty..."

There was no way she could admit that she really just wanted out of the room.

"Please?" she asked. "If I get too tired, I'll wait a week before trying again."

"I'll consult with Dr. Ysole," he replied, making a few notes on her chart before heading back out of the room.

The lights in the hallway flickered back to their normal evening half-power. Pretty wasn't tired at all.

After an hour of careful listening and not hearing so much as a lone nurse in the hallway, Pretty disconnected her IV and headed for the door. The handle turned easily, revealing to her the bleak white hallway she'd faced only a handful of times when Dr. Ysole had led her around for tests.

Unsure of just where she was going, she walked carefully, bare feet a bit too noisy on the tile floor for her own comfort. The scar on her ankle was grotesquely white, the skin looking more as though someone had carved it away than anything else. Dr. Ysole had poked at it, asking if Pretty remembered its origin. She didn't. But the pinkish scar on her thigh was a vivid memory. Stitches up her arm - those were from Mideel.

What she couldn't remember was almost more interesting than what she did know, at least to Dr. Ysole.

There was nowhere for her to hide when she heard footsteps from somewhere behind her. Dodging quickly around a corner, she found herself face to face with a door marked 'Supplies'.

Motion lighting surprised her as it clicked on, blinding her for a second. But there were no windows in the door so she couldn't have alerted anyone to her presence.

Besides, she said to herself, she really could use some toilet paper. She was on her last roll and she couldn't see hitting the 'Nurse' button for something so trivial.

Searching the shelves, the toilet paper was in the far back of the room. That was all she needed. That was an acceptable adventure. She could head back. Obviously getting a peek at the other residents of the facility was a more daunting task than she'd thought.

Unless she could pretend to get lost on her way back, toilet paper ingeniously in hand.

She grabbed two rolls and paused as the door opened and familiar footfalls sounded behind her. Years of cooking breakfast with her back turned to every door had taught her to recognize people just by the way they walked - their strides and weight.

But obviously her mind was playing tricks on her. Obviously...

Slowly she turned, ready to explain her presence to whomever had appeared.

Dropping both rolls of toilet paper, she gasped.

"Sorry," a familiar voice said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," Pretty said, feeling frozen to the spot as she tried to reconcile identical features but skin too pale and hair just a bit too short. "It's okay, Angel."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~And suddenly, there is plot.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted January 12th, 2006.
> 
> (minor edits as usual)

"What did you call me?" the man asked, bending down to grab the roll that had stopped at his feet.

Pretty caught herself. Obviously something very strange was happening and Vincent had always tried to teach her that it was safer to play an idiot and hopefully glean useful information.

"You... You look like an angel," Pretty stammered as she knelt to chase the other roll which had fallen under a set of shelves. "I need to get back to my room. I'm not supposed to be out. You aren't a doctor here, are you? You won't tell..."

"I'm not a doctor," came as response before a strong hand reached down to help Pretty to her feet. A little spark of dizziness shot through her, but catching familiar eyes with her own, she felt suddenly safe.

"A patient, too?" she asked, taking her toilet paper and hugging it almost protectively.

"Yes," he said. "Though I don't have Mako poisoning like you do."

"How do you..."

"Well, the normal patients here all are being treated for severe cases of Mako poisoning," he explained, rummaging around on another shelf as he spoke. "And you seem to be a normal patient."

"Oh," Pretty said. "But you won't tell Dr. Ysole that I snuck out, right?"

"I won't." More rummaging and then finally he pulled a small silver pouch from the bottom of a box.

"Coffee," he explained before Pretty could ask. "I'm purely nocturnal for some reason. So I'm just getting up for the day and no one bothered to bring me any..."

"You have a coffee maker in your room? I just have a TV," Pretty said. "And it isn't very interactive."

The man laughed and Pretty shivered at how identical even that was.

"I'm allowed to leave my room," he said. "So why don't I come visit you and talk in the evenings?"

"You'd do that?" Pretty asked. Despite Vincent promising to be around, he'd vanished fairly quickly, again.

"Of course. Miss, um..."

"Pretty," Pretty said, shifting so she could hold out her hand.

"Pretty," he repeated, shaking her hand carefully. "I suppose that makes it a little easier to admit that the only thing I've ever been called is Sixteen."

"Sixteen," Pretty replied before smiling. "I like that. You're a number and I'm an adjective."

Sixteen chuckled before turning to the door.

"How about I come visit tomorrow night?" he asked as he held the door open. "As long as you don't get caught on your way back to your room."

"Okay!" Pretty replied as she tried to wave. Her feet were still too noisy on the tile floor, but even lacking stealth, she didn't get the feeling that anyone had even noticed she was gone.

Back in her room, she collapsed onto the bed, dropping her ill-gotten toilet paper to the floor and hoping it didn't unroll. Tired, she reached over and reconnected her IV, wondering if it really was providing her with all the energy she hoped that she had on her own.

And Sixteen. A man who was a number who looked just like the man she'd lived with for the last eight years of her life. She wracked her brain trying to find any possible reason for there to be more than one. But she'd never paid particularly close attention to all the stories that Cloud and Sephiroth had told about the past. Not about family or anything, at least. Sixteen seemed to have the same eerie agelessness to him, though, a trait of anything filled with too much Mako.

A son?

She swallowed hard.

* * *

"How was dinner?" Sephiroth asked, reaching to grab another towel to fold. Cloud watched him add another perfectly square towel to the top of a perfect pile of perfectly folded towels before replying.

"Dinner was fine," Cloud replied softly. The memory of Sephiroth perfectly folding things had always stuck in his mind, lingering from his teenage years when he couldn't do hospital corners on his bed and Zack could never manage to keep his uniform shirts from looking wrinkled.

"Something's wrong."

"Dinner was fine," Cloud repeated. "Everything after was where things started to get a little weird."

"Define 'weird'," Sephiroth requested, grabbing another towel. Cloud hadn't noticed until that moment, but they were being sorted by color, too.

"I'm not sure how to," Cloud admitted, finally grabbing an old metal folding chair and sitting down. "But if you want me to try, I'd suggest sitting down too."

"Cloud..." Not so much questioning as demanding. Cloud swallowed hard. He didn't even know where to begin.

"I asked a rather drunk Elena just what ShinRa normally had the Turks chasing," Cloud began, waiting for Sephiroth to do anything other than keep folding those damned towels. "And..."

"And?" Finally, Sephiroth moved to get a chair of his own.

"Normally they round up the last remaining of Hojo's creations. Clones," Cloud said, looking immediately downward. "And Vincent helps them."

Green eyes narrowed in the dim basement. Cloud couldn't find words as he heard the sound of a metal chair being kicked back hard enough to hit the wall. And footsteps, on the stairs.

He felt frozen in place, unable to move even when he heard the telltale slam of the back screen door.

With a heavy sigh, Cloud pushed the chair back and stood. He didn't think Sephiroth was really a threat, per se, so much as...

He paused, hand on the railing to the narrow flight of stairs that made their way up to the kitchen.

Most of Hojo's theories and experiments hadn't exactly permeated his conscious. But... he was chasing the real Sephiroth, wasn't he?

Vincent... Vincent knew so much more than he was letting on. Vincent, still, Vincent would have said something - would have questioned or implied. But Vincent had only watched and commented that yes, he knew about Sephiroth's wings.

That had to be enough proof, didn't it?

Running up the stairs, Cloud could only hope... A glance down the hallway told him that Masamune was safely resting in its holders on the wall. Turning, he headed through the kitchen, letting the screen door slam behind him as he raced off the porch and into the slow drizzle of the evening.

Stopping midway across the lawn and nearly sliding on the wet grass, Cloud realized he wasn't entirely sure just where Sephiroth had headed. The cabin Rude and Reno were sharing appeared peacefully quiet, as did Elena's. There were no other guests. And not a light shone anywhere on the property other than the bluish fluorescent one mounted high on the other side of the barn.

Not that Sephiroth really needed light for any reason.

Without really thinking much more about it, Cloud started towards the path to the pools. Rarely did either of them wander back to the far pool anymore, even though it had cleared to a nearly crystalline purity save for where the bottom dropped out into stunning darkness.

He hated how they always seemed to descend into awkwardness, the past so tainting the present it was like neither could escape chains that should have been thrown off and left to rust.

White. Ahead of him there was white.

Feathers.

"Angel..." Cloud's voice stuck in his throat.

"Emotion," Sephiroth replied, turning around and smiling the sort of smile that made Cloud's blood run cold. "Just... emotion."

Cloud tried to take a step forward. He felt infinitely constrained in his wet dress clothing. The rain wasn't as noticeable beneath the cover of the woods, but it was still soaking him with a warm dampness that threatened to chill his body anyway.

"I... I'm real, aren't I?"

They'd had the same thought.

"Yes," Cloud said firmly. "You're real. You're you."

"Why are you so sure?" Sephiroth asked, the green of his eyes almost too bright in the nearly-black.

"Because I know you," Cloud replied. "Every inch of you. You know that I... I would... You controlled me - reached right into me and moved me. I know you like you know me."

"Cloud..."

"You're the one who wanted me to keep trusting Vincent." Cloud hoped that was enough of a conversation stopper. He didn't know what else to say. His last few statements felt as though they'd been pulled straight from some strange coiled knot in his stomach that he didn't even know was still there.

"I'd expect you to trust Vincent," Sephiroth said softly. "He still looks at you with the eyes of a lover."

Cloud winced, not so much at Sephiroth mentioning that part of his relationship with Vincent but that if it was true, he hadn't even noticed. But he did want to trust Vincent. Vincent had never once done anything questionable - obviously Vincent had his reasons for keeping such a bombshell under wraps, but...

Of course, Cloud wasn't exactly sure how he'd choose to break the news, given the option. How or when...

"Seph..."

"I'm not jealous," Sephiroth replied, glancing further down the path before motioning for Cloud to follow him. "I just don't think it was right of him to let you - us - find this out on our own..."

"What's done is done," Cloud said, finally remembering how to walk properly and needing to sprint a couple steps to catch up to Sephiroth. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch the almost fluffy whiteness of those wings, wondering why they'd appeared again so soon.

But even though he knew exactly what it was like to question himself and his origins and just who and what he was, Cloud couldn't even begin to stretch himself to imagine what it was like for Sephiroth.

"You called me..."

"I know what I called you," Cloud said quickly, reaching for Sephiroth's hand instead of the tempting white of feathers. "You're Sephiroth and you're Angel. Same person..."

"Cloud..."

"I was tempted to take another name when I came here," Cloud admitted, revealing thoughts that had struck him while on Cid's ship on the way back after lengthy delays had kept him in Junon. "I'd still be me."

They were almost to the back pool. The sound of raindrops against water was audible in the otherwise silent night, torturous save that they had their voices to ward against whatever came.

"I can't imagine you with another name."

"I know." Cloud peered at the water, feeling warmth radiating from it. At night it was just blackness, sinking nothing until he got closer and could see the stone work some ancient crafter had lovingly set to perfection.

"So how was dinner?" Sephiroth asked a moment later as Cloud was pulling his shirt off.

"Rae will likely never forgive me," Cloud said, smiling. "Reno pissed in the bushes on his way back. And Elena is a very friendly drunk."

"Rae will forgive you eventually," Sephiroth replied, stripping quickly and efficiently, dumping what remained of his clothing onto one of the table-like stones beside the rack Cloud was throwing his own already soaked pants onto.

"I can hope." He was in the water before Sephiroth was, surprised at how warm and inviting it was. No wonder Sephiroth had come this way. He was going to melt and become part of the pool, lingering in fluidity forever, not worrying about...

Sephiroth's wings dissolved the second they came in crashing contact with the water, almost sparkling in the darkness as white became thin air.

"Not surprised," Sephiroth commented, settling beside Cloud. "But you..."

"Like them, yes," Cloud said. "Hate them and am a little scared, too, yes..."

Silence ruled for a few minutes as both men relaxed in the heat of the pool.

"How many?" Sephiroth asked, reaching over to grab Cloud's hand beneath the water.

"Huh?"

"How many clones was Elena talking about... if they've been hunting down..."

"I'm not sure," Cloud admitted, wondering if his own eyes were as bright and emotive as Sephiroth's. "Elena said... Some died - some... were killed."

"Where are they? I'm assuming they're being held... together," Sephiroth let his voice fade, mouthing something Cloud didn't catch.

"Midgar." Cloud knew that much. "I... I can go."

"No."

"What?"

"Think about it," Sephiroth said. "What... what would you do? Burst in and then what? Explain that... I don't even know what you'd explain because I don't know what you'd do."

"Elena mentioned a hospital," Cloud said, trying to remember the rest of the slurred details the blonde woman had all too willingly poured out. "I... Maybe some of them are sick."

"Do we owe them anything?" Sephiroth asked, his tone turning to deadly seriousness. "Even if you were to find them, be there two or twenty, what... They didn't ask to exist but they do - I didn't... I don't know what we could do, what they'd be capable of. If they're as sick as you were..."

Cloud didn't say anything. He didn't want to think about it. He'd been a personal failure but the tests hadn't stopped. His torment... He'd been so sick and broken... Already between them they had one sick person to care for, even if she wasn't with them. Would more - especially volatile ones who...

There were too many questions. Cloud sighed.

"We'll cook ourselves if we stay in here," Cloud said, wondering how wrinkled his fingers already were.

The universe was out to get him. He was sure of it. But Sephiroth probably was thinking the exact same thing.

"And before the rain gets any worse," Sephiroth added. "I can only imagine Pretty coming home in tip-top fighting shape only to find the pair of us with pneumonia."

"She'll probably find us the way she always does," Cloud said, hoping that they'd dropped the serious conversations for at least the rest of the night.

"Naked in a hallway?"

"Yeah," Cloud replied. "That sounds good."

"Being naked in a hallway?"

"Yes, being naked in a hallway," Cloud agreed, punctuating his sentence by standing, creating waves across the pool that lapped at the far edge for a moment. Sephiroth smiled.

"We can do that," he said, climbing out of the pool with more grace than Cloud could ever manage.

"Just not the downstairs hallway unless we're far from that table," Cloud mumbled, feeling dirt stick to his feet as he reached for his pants. The rain felt cold after the warmth of the pool, but Cloud was trying not to pay too much attention to it. "Don't need materia falling on my head again..."

"I apologized for that."

"I know."

The path somehow never became more than damp even when it rained, keeping it from being muddy even as they nearly ran towards the house. It felt good to move his body - Cloud hadn't even realized how much he missed exercising on the lawn in the mornings, either swinging a sword with Pretty or just playing games in the fog with anyone willing to join.

The yard was still dark. Cloud could only wonder what time it was - he knew it had to be late but it didn't feel much past evening. But he'd been out all evening.

The screen door slammed behind him, leaving Cloud just a split second to close and lock the real door before Sephiroth had him pressed against it, kissing him fiercely.

* * *

Wishing she had a window in her room, Pretty managed to find a way to snake enough cord to the floor so that she didn't have to undo her IV while doing push-ups. Not that she'd done more than a dozen before sitting on the floor, wheezing and hoping that neither doctor was going to appear to catch her.

She was fairly sure it was morning, thanks to the help of the television. At least they'd called it Morning News and her body told her it was early.

Before she'd managed to slip back into bed, there was a knock at her door. And a pause. The doctors just always came right in and she wasn't expecting Sixteen to come around until evening, if he even came at all.

Making her way slowly to the door, Pretty wished she had some sort of way to see out. Though really, no one too scary could have made it past the Nurse Station during the day.

As she opened the door, she realized that all her guesses were wrong. On the other side of a cardboard box she dared not take, Pretty recognized Reeve, the man who'd basically carried her in when she'd first arrived.

She'd only seen him once since, and she'd been so out of it she hadn't made for very good company, which made his appearance a bit of a shock.

"Come in!" she exclaimed, stepping back and letting him bring the box in. He didn't seem to be straining any under the weight, but Pretty knew boxes like that were heavy, at least for normal people.

"Miss Pretty," Reeve said, setting the box down and holding his hand out. "It's nice to see you up. I was just about to put the box down and open the door myself."

"IV," Pretty replied, making sure to hold out the hand not filled with tubes, which made for an awkward shake. "What's the box?"

"Something for you to do," Reeve said, moving to sit in the chair in the corner of the room. "As part of the recovery, ShinRa has released most confidential files, including those on killed or missing soldiers and employees. Without knowing exactly what happened to you before you ended up in Mideel, it's hard to tell how you would have been classified - Missing in Action or Presumed Dead or even just AWOL..."

"I might be in there?" Pretty asked, pointing at the box. Tears bit at her eyes without her really understanding why. "I mean... my name... my... past?"

"Yes," Reeve said. "Maybe. Most of the active records were burned, but these were in an outlying warehouse. I just brought one box today, though. I thought I'd see how you're feeling."

"Better than last time. I did know you were here... I just..."

"Good enough for lunch?" Reeve asked. "There's a cafeteria a couple of floors down."

Pretty blushed. As much as she wanted to dig into that box, she was a little scared too. And now Reeve was asking her to lunch.

"You're being very nice for someone who doesn't know me," Pretty said, wondering if she would need to wear something besides the scrubs Dr. Ysole had given her if they did go eat. She didn't mind looking like a doctor, though, because it was better than the drafty hospital gowns.

"Surely you know that your brother is quite the hero," Reeve said, smiling. It took Pretty a second to realize that he was talking about Cloud instead of the man she generally thought of as 'brother'. "And since he relocated so unexpectedly to Mideel, a few of us have been curious. Let's just say that my curiosity would like to take you to lunch."

"Okay," Pretty said, hoping she wouldn't slip up. "As long as Dr. Lothaire and Dr. Ysole know where I am."

"I passed Perrin on the way in," Reeve replied, referring to Dr. Lothaire by his first name in a much-too-friendly manner. "I'm sure he won't mind."

"Okay..." Pretty took one last look at the box before disconnecting her IV and finding her slippers. Reeve was there to take her hand a moment later.

"And you wanted embarrassing stories about Cloud, too, didn't you?" Reeve asked, opening the door for her.

"I do," Pretty admitted. The nurses in the hallway frowned at her, but she resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at them.

They were both quiet until the elevator. As Reeve hit the button beside a small plaque marked 'Cafeteria', Pretty had another thought spring to mind.

"Do you come here often?" she asked, double-checking that the ties on her clothing were all tight. She already knew from traveling the other continent that no matter the weather, proper attire was proper attire...

"Well..."

"I mean, do you ever see anyone else? I just... don't see people other than the doctors. But I know they're there," Pretty began, hoping to not sound too obvious. "Vincent said that most of them are really sick in their own ways, but..."

"Are you worried about the incident last night?" Reeve asked as the elevator slid to a slow stop at their floor.

Pretty froze before she figured out that Reeve was talking about the lock-down, not her midnight wandering.

"Yes," she said, not entirely sure that she wasn't lying.

"Vincent cares quite a bit about your well-being," Reeve said as he led Pretty to the cafeteria line. Despite the selections looking fairly bland, they smelled amazing and Pretty wished she wasn't currently restricted from eating most anything with any hint of flavor.

She also wasn't sure what to make of Reeve's statement until he continued.

"But considering the amount of time he spends there with you, that much you must know."

Pretty shivered, trying not to let her voice falter as she asked one of the cafeteria ladies for some steamed green beans.

She didn't doubt that Vincent spent a decent amount of time at the facility. She... just couldn't figure out how everything tied together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is fucking? Sixteen goes for plot exposition? Pretty angsts? Cloud is denied the best moves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, that's the best summary I could come up with on January 16th, 2006? Apparently! 
> 
> (the usual minor edits)

Cloud could hear the rain against the window, lightly tapping against the glass as though it was trying to be as soft and polite as the usual morning fog. Even with the rain, natural light was spilling into the room, meaning it was a fairly decent hour of the morning. Past his usual time to wake up. But they’d been up so late, lost in what followed conversation.

Sephiroth was warm against him, holding him in nearly the same position they’d been in while falling asleep. Cloud wasn’t sure if Sephiroth was awake yet, watching the rain as well and just not wanting to move. Before he could reach back for a questioning poke, Sephiroth’s hand slid from where it was resting draped over Cloud’s midsection, downward until Cloud gasped at contact.

"Morning," Sephiroth said, his breath warm against Cloud’s neck before laying a trail of kisses to Cloud’s ear and toying with Cloud’s earring with his tongue as his hand teased Cloud to arousal.

"Don’t know how you can just wake up like this..." Cloud mumbled, trying to process too much sensation with a half-awake brain.

"I’m not normal," Sephiroth replied, pressing his own erection against the small of Cloud’s back.

"Not normal either..." Cloud said, losing the end of his sentence to a breathy gasp. "Doesn’t mean..."

"I can stop."

"Don’t," Cloud managed, shuddering as Sephiroth paused just barely touching the head of his erection. "I didn’t tell you to stop."

Sephiroth chuckled before returning his mouth to Cloud’s ear, gently nipping at the lobe beneath where silver still pierced through, nearly forgotten by Cloud until Sephiroth decided to pay attention to it.

And a few seconds later, his hand returned to its motion as well, using pre-come to ease movement and slowly draw Cloud away from the tendrils of sleep and out into what he could only think of as undeserved pleasure.

He could hear the rain gently tapping, feeling so much louder than it was as he tried to stay quiet and not give in to the bliss being offered to him.

"Come for me," Sephiroth whispered in his ear, almost demanding he find release and ignore everything but...

There wasn’t anything more important, after all.

With nothing more than a groan muffled by his pillow and a suddenly too confining blanket, Cloud came, feeling the heat of seed spread back over his erection for just a moment before Sephiroth spread it lower, pushing his legs apart.

"Pent up energy," Sephiroth said softly, pressing fingers into Cloud’s body. "You should have realized..."

Cloud wanted to call that a lie - he wanted to say all sorts of things but fingers were quickly pulled back from his body and before he could even think of anything to say, he was pushed onto his stomach. Sephiroth was inside him a moment later, making shallow, slow thrusts as though he was afraid of breaking Cloud.

Not that Cloud was entirely sure he minded. He was still a bit sore - more than usual, but he couldn’t help wanting the encounter. He understood. This was them. Together. Something that did need to suddenly be reaffirmed. He didn’t mind the claim.

He liked the sound of Sephiroth’s gasps above him, close but not too close, not quite to the edge. Cloud reached, stretching his arms to grab at the edge of the mattress, too spent to get hard again but still happily lingering in the bliss from his climax being drawn out by pressure inside.

He hadn’t really thought anything would change--

Sephiroth shifted above him, thrusting deep and hard, causing Cloud to squeeze his eyes closed for a few seconds until he’d relaxed to the full penetration. All he could do was hang on, letting Sephiroth take a few last seconds of pleasure before his own climax.

Smiling, Cloud listened to Sephiroth, feeling him moving and shuddering as he came.

"Yard," Cloud said a few minutes later, after Sephiroth had settled beside him again and seemed to be watching the rain with the same half-interest he’d had earlier.

"What?"

"We should go out to the yard... Spar. Run. Something," Cloud said. "You’re right - I miss it."

"But..."

"I don’t care," Cloud said. "Or... I’m not worried. Let them see."

"Cloud," Sephiroth began, reaching for Cloud’s hand.

"I mean it," Cloud interrupted, pulling away and getting to his feet, looking around for a pair of pants. "I... We should have all just been honest about this and instead I shoved you up in the attic like I had a problem..."

"We agreed on the attic," Sephiroth said softly, untangling himself from the blankets and following Cloud’s lead. "After all, we didn’t know. But now, I guess we need to."

"You said that even if..."

"I can’t help thinking that maybe... I do owe something to these clones," Sephiroth said.

Cloud paused, hands halfway through the act of doing up his pants. That was a sudden change.

"They’re... me. Or part of me. I’m at fault for their existence -"

"No you aren’t!" Cloud cried, stomping past. "Can’t... Can’t we just drop it for a bit?"

"Cloud?" Sephiroth reached to grab him before he got to the hallway.

"Let’s just go out and spar... have fun," Cloud said, looking back. He hadn’t intended for a repeat of the previous night. Almost... They almost had their peace back.

Suddenly he wasn’t so sure it would ever exist again.

* * *

Pretty sighed, tossing another manila folder into the growing pile on the far side of her chair.

"I’d like her hair, though," she commented to the otherwise empty room, glancing one last time at the file of secretary Marsh, Rita.

The box Reeve had brought her seemed to contain at least two hundred such folders and she’d gotten through at least a hundred of them already, going from impatiently skimming for a photo and a work center to reading long, detailed records of just who each woman was and what she’d done.

She had all the time in the world, she figured, and even if her biography was the next one, suddenly knowing wasn’t going to get her out of the hospital any quicker.

Rita had been able to type nearly 200 words per minute and had served for various offices in both Junon and Midgar. She had a husband and a son and a note in pencil to attempt to recruit said son in the future. And good hair. Really good hair.

Those were things she hadn’t even ever bothered thinking about - not the hair, but if she’d left a family somewhere. Even if she really was only thirty, a guess made by the doctor in Mideel based on her teeth and size, she still could have been married... could have left behind children.

Without realizing it, Pretty found herself crying again. It wasn’t the first time she’d found herself in tears while going through the box. She’d cried when she’d finally decided to read each detail of each file, realizing that instead of a box of files, she had a box of people - people who either were or weren’t still alive, possibly like she was, wondering who they were and where they should have gone.

Even if she had left behind someone - a lover, a child... She’d been in Mideel for more than eight years. And before that, in order to end up in the swirling depths of the Lifestream, she couldn’t even begin to fathom what she’d been doing. Even if she found another life, she knew she couldn’t go back to it.

Only one thing was clear in her mind - the badly healed scar on her ankle was from cutting away a ShinRa barcode. Sephiroth had always hidden it, buying her anklets to cover it. She’d never really understood, either - she’d thought it was just the sort of flaw that shouldn’t be shown.

Pretty had almost laughed when she saw the first picture of a barcode there - but she couldn’t make a sound at the time. Sephiroth protected her as best he could, by not telling her. And then he’d let her go out into the world anyway, naïve and likely to run into trouble.

Finally laughing, she grabbed another file, remembering that she had to grab with the hand not attached to machines.

She wasn’t guard Utano, Bethany either. Bethany had a glorious record, reaching an almost admirable rank... For a guard. For a woman...

They hadn’t had enough time to see what Mako did to women - didn’t even give much to female Turks who seemed doomed to die at young ages where it didn’t really matter just what sort of messed up stuff was coursing around with blood.

No wonder Sephiroth had finally wanted to leave the madness and take Cloud somewhere safe.

She felt like such a third wheel. Smiling, Pretty hoped that whatever was going on back in Mideel, it was as happy and peaceful as she could imagine it being.

Bethany’s file fell squarely onto the pile and Pretty reached for another one. There was a knock at the door, startling her for a second. Reeve had already visited and she doubted that Vincent would bother knocking at all. He hadn’t before. Besides, he’d seen her naked a hundred thousand times at least and she’d seen him naked and they really didn’t have anything to hide from one another, at least physically.

She definitely wasn’t sure about the rest, though. Vincent did seem to be hiding quite a few things.

"Come in," Pretty called, afraid that her mysterious visitor would vanish by the time she got everything sorted out in order to get to the door.

Familiar green eyes met hers a moment later as Sixteen slipped into the room and closed the door quickly.

"Evening," he said, clutching a mug in one hand. "How are you feeling?"

"It’s that late!" Pretty squeaked. She’d lost track of time yet again, lost somewhere in the box of files she’d delved into after Reeve had brought her back from lunch and made sure she was comfortably in bed before leaving.

"It is," Sixteen said, glancing down at the box at Pretty’s feet and the pile of folders beside her. "What do you have?"

"Oh!" Pretty exclaimed... "Um... These are files Reeve brought from somewhere, um... Files about missing women who served with ShinRa."

"You’re looking for someone?" Sixteen asked, crouching down to peer into the box. His hair was tied back, trailing downward and just dusting the floor with the tip.

"Me," Pretty said. "I lost my memory somewhere and since ShinRa is in my background somewhere, Reeve brought these for me to look through."

"You aren’t having any luck," Sixteen commented, looking at the discard pile.

"I wouldn’t say that," Pretty said quickly, trying to smile. "I know a few dozen people that I’m not."

"I’m not who I am," Sixteen said, reaching in to pull out a file. "So I think I know how you might feel."

"You’re not... huh?" Pretty pulled out a file of her own. "And if you really want to help, it’s okay to look at the picture and the age. I’m close to thirty and this is my natural hair-color... Angel thinks my eyes were probably brown, once."

She paused. She’d slipped, again.

"Angel," Sixteen repeated, looking up with peaked interest. "That’s what you called me last night."

"I... um..." Pretty couldn’t think of any way around the truth. Sixteen didn’t seem to be threatening. He didn’t... She remembered a truth she’d nearly forgotten, so old that it had crumbled to a lie. "He’s an amnesiac like myself. No memory."

"He looks like I do?"

"Yes," Pretty admitted. "But not exactly. I mean, no two people look exactly alike."

"No, we don’t," Sixteen said, sounding almost sad. He glanced into the file he was holding. "You aren’t Monroe, Cynthia, by the way. Be thankful of that..."

"Let me see," Pretty said as she held out her hand for the folder. One look and she agreed. Too much makeup and nothing to back it up. Wait... What had Sixteen just said?

"We?" Pretty asked softly. "You mean... like... a brother? Or father? Or..."

"Not quite," Sixteen replied, settling to the floor with his legs crossed, placing his half-full mug of coffee on the floor.

"Oh! Do you want my chair?" Pretty asked suddenly, not quite comfortable looking down on someone who was a guest in her room.

"You’re fine," Sixteen said, glancing at the IV tubes. "Don’t move for my sake though. I’m... really not worth any sort of kindness."

"What do you mean?" Pretty dumped Cynthia into the pile but couldn’t bring herself to dip back into the box. The shape of Sixteen’s hands was a bit different, too. She could only imagine that they’d feel different over hers, guiding her swings to guard against Cloud on a misty morning.

"I can only hope you’re open-minded enough to believe me," Sixteen said before taking another long, hard swallow of his coffee. "But... I think you are.

"I think I can relate to whatever feelings you have about not having a past," Sixteen continued. "Except... I have one. It’s just not mine."

"Still lost," Pretty admitted, wanting to reach down and offer some sort of comfort to her visitor. He looked nearly like he was going to cry.

"ShinRa was involved in quite a bit of inhumane research," Sixteen said, keeping his head down. "And part of that involved attempting to create super-soldiers. From what I’ve discovered, it was a combination of alien genetics, Mako, and an insanely powerful prototype for the entire thing - a Specimen Zero, I guess."

Pretty nodded. She was going to pretend to not understand any more than Sixteen told her.

"The methods were varied, filled with failures across the world, left to rot in labs or hunted down like animals, though some of us... them... us... were no better..."

"Sixteen..." Pretty crawled down off the chair, sharply tugging the wheeled IV stand a few feet closer so that she could kneel down and put a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t want to necessarily say she understood. Because she didn’t understand how he felt. But she understood who he was. He was Sephiroth - Angel - both... what remained when a man tried to make a god and a choir of angels without stopping to claw at sanity.

"I was an abandoned clone," Sixteen said softly... "Left because I wasn’t far enough along to be worth anything. Left to keep growing in a tank, thankful to be able to live solely on the Mako supply that no one had bothered to turn off when they left. I... And when we escaped, it was too late for everything. Too late to be in a world where we had any meaning!"

"Shh..." Pretty hushed him, hoping that he’d be okay. If he was allowed to wander at will, he had to at least be able to control himself.

"Rounded up like animals. Filled with half-truths and half-memories that aren’t ours..."

The plural finally smacked Pretty upside the head again and she pulled back, bringing the hand not full of tubes up to her mouth. "How many?"

"Ten... no, nine of us," Sixteen said. "Twelve originally, I mean, thirty originally... Thirty. Nine left, now."

"Thirty, just like you?" Pretty couldn’t begin to fathom an entire army of identical men, betrayed only by small features, those only distinguishable to anyone with intimate knowledge.

"No," Sixteen said. "The first... dozen or so were incomplete. They died quickly, unable to do more than long for completion, to be with the Real Thing. And he died... So..."

Pretty managed to stay quiet. If anyone other than Sixteen had been telling her this tale, she wouldn’t have believed a word. But coming from the mouth of someone who couldn’t possibly be making a single thing up, she wished she was writing down every letter.

"Some of the others... couldn’t deal with knowing what they were or... maybe, what they weren’t. The Turks... ShinRa’s hired guns. They herded us here to be kept, watched over without purpose."

"I... One of them is a man named Vincent, right?"

"You know him?" Sixteen asked, eyes very quickly on Pretty.

"He brought me here," Pretty admitted as she tried to decide whether to back away. But she wanted to trust Sixteen. "Really, until... I met you, I thought he was a good guy. Now I don’t know."

"He always says he wants to keep us safe," Sixteen said softly. He seemed to be calming down, relaxing a bit. "I just don’t know why he seems to care so much."

"That’s how he is," Pretty replied, frowning. "I guess... I thought I knew him."

"He probably thinks he’s keeping you safe too, then."

Pretty paused on that thought, rolling it twice through her brain until it made sense - Vincent was keeping her safe - he was keeping them all safe. After all, she couldn’t begin to fathom how the news would go over in Mideel.

But being trapped in the boredom of the facility? Pretty wasn’t so sure she’d settle for that, either.

"I don’t know," Pretty said, leaning against Sixteen’s shoulder. "You’re here. Neither one of us is safe anymore."

"What do you mean?" Sixteen asked, reaching to toy with the rim of his coffee cup, not paying it much attention as he did so.

"I told you that I know someone who looks like you," Pretty said. "Not exactly, but..."

"No, we don’t all look alike," Sixteen said. "But Vincent is watching him, right?"

"Vincent isn’t strong enough to bring him here anyway. Neither am I. Cloud might be able to, but..."

Pretty found herself flat on the floor, IV stand perilously knocked against the chair as a strong hand slammed most of the air out of her lungs.

"Cloud."

No, she decided as she desperately tried to recall anything soothing she used to do when Sephiroth became lost in fits of moody, memory-driven pain, she was not safe anymore.

* * *

Cloud tried to pull himself up off the grass, fairly sure he now knew how Pretty had felt for the last few months, constantly knocked down and not quite willing to get back up again only to face the same punishment over and over and over.

What was worse was the fact that despite having a nice collection of practice swords and polite little broadswords and even fencing foils, Sephiroth had decided they may as well go all out.

Fairly sure he’d already gotten a haircut from a too-close swing of the Masamune, he’d tried to strike back with everything but his sword, a task not so easy given the insane reach Masamune allowed.

Jumping, moving, he tried. He knew the clangs of metal against metal were going to wake the Turks. They were going to stumble blearily out of their cottages and forget that it was indeed still raining because they were all going to stare at two grown men in their pajama bottoms, sliding around on the wet grass like idiots with really big swords, too skilled to do more than offer weak parries for fear of actually hurting one another.

"Just try to hit me," Sephiroth said, smirking as he held his distance.

"Done that, killed you," Cloud shot back, taking a swing anyway and having his sword thrust toward the ground. He had an idea, but it seemed infinitely stupid to be doing barefoot when it was wet.

That meant it had to work!

A parry, a kick, a jump... just as he would have landed square on the middle of the flat of Masamune’s blade, Sephiroth shifted. Halfway through managing a decent landing, Cloud realized the situation and put his own sword up.

Only one of the bullets went so far astray as needing to be blocked, though. The rest bounced off Masamune, landing in the grass.

"Sorry..." Sephiroth said as he glared at the three Turks standing across the yard. Elena still had her gun pointed at the pair but hadn’t bothered reloading. "Would have been a good trick, too."

"Some other time," Cloud said, making a note to find the bullets before Yuki mowed the lawn next. "When we aren’t being shot at."

By the time Cloud looked up, Sephiroth already had the tip of Masamune at Reno’s throat. Deadly reach, Cloud thought, before deciding he’d best just go rescue Reno and make sure no one actually ended up bleeding.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast of champions. Reeve again. Safety?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted January 19th, 2006. 
> 
> I recall getting frustrated in this group of chapters with the overall timing between Seph & Cloud's story and Pretty's story getting off, chronologically. But it's close, at least. 
> 
> (minor edits)

"It... It was Elena!" Reno exclaimed, shakily pointing to the blonde beside him.

"It was," Rude added, expressionless behind sunglasses save for a hand half-raised as though he was considering the thought of reaching to actually push Masamune aside.

"You shot at Cloud," Sephiroth said, his tone almost scaring Cloud for a second as he ran up behind Sephiroth just in time to hear the conversation.

"You... Swords!" Elena cried as Masamune swung unwaveringly in her direction. She took a step back, slipping a bit as her slippers refused to grab on the wet grass.

"Actually, she was shooting at you," Reno said. "Her aim stinks."

"It wasn't that bad," Cloud said, considering telling Sephiroth to drop Masamune but having too much fun getting a last little bit of revenge for having his last week or so turn into absolute torment. "Only one went astray. Though if I'd managed to land that..."

"Swords!" Elena recanted, probably louder than she wanted to, given how hungover she likely was. Cloud thought to reach to lower Masamune's blade but paused to decide that really, Elena had done some rather decent shooting, at least for her condition. He'd kinda given her way too much to drink in order to get the information he'd needed.

"Usually we just use wooden practice swords," Cloud said, watching the tip of Masamune settle about an inch above where Elena's nightgown dipped to show cleavage, the metal just a hair's-width from her skin. The blade stayed still, not shaking at all even as seconds ticked by in silence.

"This wasn't a battle?" Rude asked, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as though somehow not seeing things through darkened lenses would make them a little more real.

"It's too wet for a battle," Sephiroth said. "And... Do you really think we'd fight to the death in our pajamas?"

He finally lowered Masamune and smiled, keeping the sword tight in his left hand while holding out his right in greeting.

"They are in their pajamas..." Reno confirmed, apparently finally paying more attention to something besides metal.

"You must be Reno," Sephiroth said, an almost friendly smile staying on his face. "I'm Angel, the owner of this resort. I apologize that I haven't had a chance to meet you sooner, but we've been doing a bit of work inside the main house..."

"Angel..." Reno repeated as though he was seeing something much more akin to a demon.

"No last name," Sephiroth replied, reaching in turn for Rude and Elena's hands. "Most of the amnesiacs... myself, Rae, Pretty... We generally don't end up with last names."

"Amnesiac," Elena said softly. "But... Reno..."

"Perhaps we could continue this somewhere without rain?" Sephiroth questioned, glancing back at the house. "All I can offer is bacon and instant pancakes, if you don't mind a bit of dust."

"Cloud..." Reno said, motioning for him to stay back as Sephiroth led Elena and Rude towards the house. Cloud wanted to laugh - all three Turks were still in their pajamas as well, Reno looking quite a bit more rumpled than usual.

"So I used a horribly underhanded tactic to get information out of Elena and now you know why," Cloud said. "But... he doesn't know anything. He's an amnesiac."

"Cloud," Reno began as he finally decided to walk towards the house. "That's no clone. That's the real thing."

"How do you know?" Cloud asked, trying to mask the interest in his voice. He knew Sephiroth was, well, Sephiroth. But Reno's logic was bound to be much more thought-provoking.

"Because that's Masamune he had pointed at my throat," Reno replied. "Not the first time I've seen that end of it, y'know? See, back... before... I just wanted to hold it and see if the stories were true that only he... Stupid story short, I know the business end of that thing and I know damned well a clone could probably wield it."

"But no clone could hold it that perfectly still while scaring the daylights out of a hungover Elena?" Cloud finished. He suppressed the urge to smirk.

"Yeah, that."

They were almost to the porch, leaving Cloud to wonder what would possibly be more awkward, last night's dinner or the upcoming breakfast.

* * *

"Don't," Pretty said softly. Her voice came out as little more than a whisper, unable to pull air until Sixteen backed off, his eyes wide.

"S...Sorry!" he exclaimed, trying to get both of them off the floor in one awkward motion and almost succeeding.

"It's okay," Pretty managed as she brought a hand to her chest. The IV really hadn't pulled at her hand and it was easy to tip back into place. Other than the buzz of adrenaline now surging through her body, she was fairly sure that she hadn't actually been hurt.

"I..."

Just trying to even out her breathing, Pretty nodded. She knew. She knew that burst of recognition quite well.

"S'okay," she said again, finally able to make sure she was still receiving the proper contents of her IV bottles. Everything seemed fine.

"I should... go..." Sixteen said quickly, moving for the door.

"Stay!" Pretty looked down to where the file-box had been knocked aside, folders spilling out of it. "I... I want to know why..."

"Cloud," Sixteen softly said as he turned to look back at Pretty. "I... I always have remembered this feeling of warmth and that name. Not so much an image as just this..."

"Oh..."

"So they're together, then?" Sixteen asked, his voice cracking as he settled at the end of Pretty's bed. "Cloud and the clone?"

"You think he's a clone?" Pretty asked back. She kept bringing her hand back to her chest, wondering just what bruises she'd have in the morning. The idea still didn't seem right to her. Cloud seemed positive that Sephiroth was the man he'd been with as a teen. And she wasn't even going to try to doubt the feelings they had for one another.

"He has to be," Sixteen said. "Don't you think we'd be able to feel..."

"He's still remembering," Pretty said quickly. "And... He promised Cloud that even if he could still reach out, that he'd never try. I remember a morning when it was raining and Cloud... asked about that."

"You seem so sure that it's him," Sixteen whispered. "I'm not sure that... I don't think I want to believe you."

"Why?" Pretty asked.

"Because then I really am nothing."

* * *

Sephiroth wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh and tell stories about some of the more lurid things he'd caught Reno doing some twenty years before. He had a hard time believing that everyone was getting so old around him, even if Mako helped preserve them into an almost ageless state. Still, Reno looked older, more beaten down.

Finally, not a one of the three Turks looked scared half to death, not like they had earlier. It could have had something to do with the pancakes he'd reconstituted for them, but he thought it might be more likely that he'd managed to convince them that he really had lost any memory beyond the previous decade.

Cloud seemed to be having fun, too, talking about the beasts on the island and even Pretty.

Elena was watching him so closely that he just wanted to stop everything he was doing and tell her it really was okay that she had shot at him. He understood - in her shoes, well, slippers, he would have shot at himself too.

"Vincent just told us that you'd moved to Mideel and were raising chocobos," Reno finally said after stuffing the better part of a pancake into his mouth and half-chewing it.

"I race at the Gold Saucer at least once a year," Cloud admitted almost as though he was surprised that anything other than the obvious situation had cropped up in conversation. "And usually after, at least one or two breeders will come and buy a couple birds."

"Vincent never mentioned a particular form of employment," Sephiroth said carefully as conversation lulled after that. "I didn't realize that he was part of an intelligence network. Though I can't imagine there's anything in these parts to keep anyone interested."

He could see both Reno and Elena shooting Cloud a various obvious look to which Cloud responded to with a very obvious look of his own.

"Well they were sent down here to investigate phenomenon that just happened to be Vincent," Cloud said. "So there really isn't."

"Reeve wanted to call you back," Elena said, looking directly at Cloud. "He thought you'd want to be involved, but Vincent stepped in and told him you'd found the sort of peace that you deserved."

"I wouldn't help ShinRa again," Cloud said. "I'd help Reeve. Or Vincent. But..."

"Cloud?" Sephiroth interrupted, not even want to be torn away from the conversation himself, but he could see Yuki and Matsuko on their way towards the porch. "Excuse me."

As much as he wanted to linger and see what information he could glean by stating the likely obvious, things needed to continue much as they had.

And, he hoped, much as they were going to.

* * *

Pretty was confused for a moment when she heard the knocking at her door. Sixteen needed to hide, he... Struggling with her blankets, she managed to sit up. Her room was empty and she was in bed.

"Come in," Pretty called just as the door opened. Dr. Lothaire appeared a moment later, smiling as he approached her with a syringe of glowing blue-green.

"Doctor..." Pretty began, eyeing the tip of a very long needle.

"Today's your big day," Dr. Lothaire said. "You're going down to the basement gym like you requested. Ysole seems to think you can handle at least a few minutes and has even asked another patient to be your partner."

"That's..." As thankful as she was to actually be allowed to go exercise, Pretty couldn't snap her attention away from the needle filled with mako.

"Trust me," Dr. Lothaire said, reaching to disconnect Pretty's IV and position the needle at the junction. "We've had much better success by giving patients small doses after their initial poisoning."

Shivering, Pretty was sure she could feel the cool liquid sliding into her body, snaking through her blood to join the rest of what had settled into her form. She couldn't look at the syringe and couldn't even turn her head back as she felt Dr. Lothaire take her hand and start to work at the tape that held her IV in.

"For the next week you'll be taking about twenty pills a day," Dr. Lothaire said as he worked. "After that, we should be able to get you down to just a handful and once you go home, none at all. If your stomach is holding up, you'll even be allowed down to the cafeteria."

"Thank you," Pretty whispered, finally looking over at her freed hand. She flexed it once, wincing at how stiff and sore it was. She wouldn't be able to hold even a practice sword very well, but it would be a start.

With a yawn, Pretty glanced around for Sixteen again, well aware that he wasn't there. They had talked until, apparently, she had fallen asleep.

"Go ahead and get dressed," Dr. Lothaire said after grabbing Pretty's chart and jotting something on it. "There's a waiting room past the nurse station if you go left. Reeve is waiting for you there."

"Reeve," Pretty said softly, quite curious.

But the doctor had already left, leaving Pretty to rush through a morning routine she wished could involve a little more than trying to pull her hair back and choosing from the small amount of clothing that Hikari had been able to pack for her.

Still, the thought of perhaps meeting another clone made her feel almost giddy. For all the things she hadn't managed to discover yet, the few things she had were all the motivation she thought she needed to push her own limits.

Stretching quickly after putting on her own clothing for the first time in what felt like ages, Pretty wondered if Sixteen could fight as well. Certainly he and his... 'brothers' seemed almost like a good word - had to be as stir-crazy as she was. But to keep them captive yet let them fight - Pretty thought she was missing a bit of the logic in that argument.

Smiling, Pretty made her way to the waiting room she only vaguely remembered seeing in passing. Reeve was there, looking almost too important in a crisp suit and long leather jacket.

"Um, hi," Pretty said, almost tiptoeing into the room. "I wasn't expecting you to come back so soon."

"I'm guessing you didn't find yourself in that box," Reeve said before standing.

"Not yet," Pretty admitted. "But I didn't get all the way through yet. I started reading about everyone and before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep."

"Then you'll forgive me for not bringing another box this morning?" Reeve asked, reaching to take Pretty's arm.

"Sure. But why are you here, anyway?" Pretty asked, over-emphasizing the question before hoping she hadn't actually offended Reeve in the process. She did want him around, after all. Having people to talk to was wonderful.

"Personal curiosity," Reeve replied. "After all, I can only wonder what Cloud's sparring partner is capable of."

"Oh," Pretty said as they reached the elevator. She wondered if she should be hungry, because she really wasn't.

"I'm really out of practice," she admitted a moment later, once she'd replayed a few months worth of memories of Cloud knocking her down and pulling her up again. "I don't think... I mean, I'm going to suck."

"We'll see about that," Reeve said coolly. "Your sparring partner is another patient here, actually. So perhaps you'll go easy on him."

"Was he a SOLDIER?" Pretty asked, forgetting for a moment that she was fairly sure she'd actually be dealing with a clone.

"Ah... Yes, I believe you could say that," Reeve replied after a pause. The elevator dinged that they'd arrived in the basement.

Taking a deep breath, Pretty followed Reeve out of the elevator and into another hallway. As long as she kept quiet, she wouldn't say anything improper. And that would at least keep her from a repeat of the previous night's incident.

* * *

Sprawled in the open, dry grass of the plains beyond the forest, Cloud could occasionally hear the soft warbles of his birds as they rummaged through the field for bugs or anything else they thought interesting.

It had taken a few minutes to convince Reno to just lay down and relax as well, the sun still low in the sky and nowhere near where it would be for the heat of the day.

"I guess I'd keep it a secret, too," Reno finally said.

The sky was an almost perfect shade of blue.

"He... He seems to remember knowing me before," Cloud admitted.

"You two... before?" Reno asked, rolling onto his side to actually pay more attention to Cloud than the lazy white clouds floating sparsely through the sky.

"Yes," Cloud admitted. "Before."

"I knew you'd hooked up with Vincent, after, but... Either way, it's a little weird thinking about you in bed with a guy you killed."

"Reno," Cloud warned, fairly sure that if he let the chocobo Reno had ridden get up to full speed on the way back, Reno wouldn't be able to hang on. It was nice to always have a back-up plan.

"Maybe I'm a little jealous," Reno continued. "Back then, he seemed untouchable. People threw themselves at him."

"So I did something different," Cloud replied. There had to be something else to talk about. Something.

"So does he ever let you fuck him?" Reno asked quickly, getting onto his hands and knees to lean over Cloud and catch a reaction.

"Bwah?" Cloud found himself coughing, stuck in a fit of annoyance so strong that what he really wanted to do was reach up and strangle Reno but all he could do was shove the man aside and look for a sputtering answer.

"That sounds like a yes," Reno said smugly.

"You haven't settled down?" Cloud asked, trying to turn things around.

"Not me," Reno said, moving to sit cross-legged beside Cloud. "Not Rude, either. Elena's going to be the one to end up with kids, if anyone."

"Married to your jobs."

"Yeah."

"Going back to Midgar after this?" Cloud asked, tempted to try to pass a note along to Pretty. At least asking for her to try to watch Vincent a bit more closely. He knew Sephiroth was still debating whether or not to even acknowledge the clones but he... he'd been part of those experiments too. Even if he could only do something in secret, he wanted to do something.

"That girl, right? The one you can't decide if she's your sister or maid or whatever," Reno said. "Family isn't always blood."

"I know that," Cloud said, thinking of everyone else he really needed to invite for a nice, complimentary stay at the resort.

"There are nine left," Reno said flatly. "Nine. I ain't convinced that they need to be locked up, either. But up until today, I just thought they'd be safer - or we'd be safer - if they were."

"And then the great General Sephiroth made you pancakes while I tried not to burn the bacon," Cloud commented. "Maybe we're all insane, but we're... We're happy."

"Maybe I'll retire down here too," Reno mused, kicking his legs out and staring off to watch the pair of black chocobos they'd ridden out pull at a flowering plant.

Cloud groaned. He didn't even want to think about it.

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Cloud asked a moment later.

"Nah," Reno replied. "Not worth it."

"Not worth it?"

"Well, most people wouldn't care. They don't know anything other than what the ShinRa papers said about Sephiroth dying sixteen years ago," Reno said. "They'd just figure he's some middle-aged fellow living it up in a town full of middle-aged tourists."

"Okay..."

"And Reeve... or even Tseng... They'd want him captured and brought to Midgar," Reno said bluntly. "That would be suicide."

"It would," Cloud agreed, knowing quite well that Reno was correct in that assumption. And for potentially the first time in his life, he knew he could trust Reno to be good to his word.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reeve gets to see Pretty in action; Sephiroth and Cloud also see some action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted January 23rd, 2006. 
> 
> (minor edits)

After hanging up the office phone, Cloud glanced out the side window to see Reno wandering around the yard, pausing at intervals with a phone of his own attached to his ear.

Even though he knew that Reno wasn't likely to get a good signal unless he wandered back behind the chocobo stable, Cloud didn't bother going out to tell him. Even with Sephiroth quickly catching up the paperwork and putting a slightly confused Matsuko to work on the worst piles of laundry, there were still actual domestic tasks that needed to be taken care of.

Like dinner.

Take out - nothing fancy, but enough for Yuki and Matsuko too, and hopefully leftovers for Hikari who hadn't been feeling well and decided not to even come linger on the porch swing.

That was assuming the Turks didn't eat quite so much like starving dogs for this meal. But Cloud could well imagine them being out of money after so many days on the island.

And since Cloud had yet to see any of the three of them with a phone, Cloud could only assume that indeed, they were going home. But even a fast, small ShinRa plane wouldn't arrive until morning. The landing field crew would appreciate the fuel cell sale, certainly, but... Cloud sighed, realizing he needed to buy one as well and that was why he hadn't been taking the motorcycle anywhere for the last few weeks.

The motorcycle would have been too fast and easy, anyway. Getting one of his feisty, younger birds ready for a trip to town actually would take the time needed to prepare the food.

As he headed out to the barn, Reno waved him over to the edge of cottages.

"You have no signal out here," Reno complained, holding out his phone to prove that he was a few bars short of a conversation. "But I got through to Reeve and we're leaving."

"Just leave an address for the bill," Cloud said firmly, half paying attention to Reno and half mentally searching for the gear needed for the chocobo he had in mind. "I'm going to pick up dinner. For everyone."

"Don't suppose you need a hand."

"You're too friendly," Cloud surmised. "You want something."

"Even when Reeve didn't sound like he was talking through a vat of mako, I think there was something he wasn't asking," Reno replied. "I think he wanted to ask about you. But... Assuming your name isn't specifically on the bill as payable-to, I'm fairly sure that you saw us and kept hidden for the whole investigation, right?"

"Vincent..." Cloud began, only to be cut off.

"Not going to see it," Reno promised. "He doesn't actually spend much time around Reeve's office, so I wouldn't worry too much. He can be fairly easy to shut down, as far as questions go."

"Why?" Cloud asked. "Why would you do this?"

"Other than the fact that you could break my neck like a twig?" Reno asked. "I think we've been through this - work is only work and you seem to have found your own chunk of paradise. I'm not a total bastard - I ain't gonna ruin all this for you."

Cloud chuckled as they reached the barn. "I think I trust you."

"That's pushing it."

"Wutainese takeout, by the way. Not authentic, either. But... No one really cares," Cloud said as he grabbed a saddle and headed towards the stall of a young green male that had potential but didn't seem willing to work with it. "I'll be back in a bit."

Reno just stayed in the doorway and laughed.

But in the long run, Cloud knew he had the upper-hand. Even if he had to return to a life lived by the sword, he could at least do his fair share in keeping his paradise safe.

* * *

Dr. Ysole was already in the wood-floored gymnasium, perched on a low row of aged bleachers that looked out over the fading paint that must have designated multiple courts. Pretty wondered why a hospital had a place like this rotting beneath it - maybe it had been an employee perk at some point? Basketball at lunch?.

She had a bag beside her, filled, Pretty assumed, with any medical supplies necessary in case either she or her partner got injured.

Just as Pretty spotted a wheeled rack with bamboo practice swords, she heard a voice behind her. As she turned, a young, dark-haired man came running into the room.

"I'm so sorry I'm late but see, there was..."

"You aren't late," Reeve said, cutting the man off. "We just arrived. I believe we all kept the fair doctor waiting, if anything."

"You didn't," Dr. Ysole replied quickly. "I've only been here for about two or three minutes."

"I'm Pretty," Pretty said, awkwardly bowing in greeting since the dark-haired man wasn't in range for a handshake.

"Pretty?" the man repeated, questioning. "Oh, that's different. Well, I guess that makes it a little easier to be named Twenty."

"Twenty," Pretty confirmed, smiling. "That's a good name. I guess we should get started, though."

"Yeah," Twenty said, reaching to push back dark hair that seemed to be at an awkward, nearly-chin length.

Nearly bumping into each other as they circled the practice swords, Pretty managed to peek up at Twenty's eyes. They were a shocking blue, not quite as bright as Cloud's, and they had the same generally unnerving cat's-eye quality that actually made Pretty more comfortable.

"Sorry," Twenty mumbled, letting Pretty choose first. "I..."

"I'm out of practice," Pretty admitted as she picked up a sword. "But don't go too easy on me. I was really strong."

"I know," Twenty said, choosing his own.

"How?"

"Your eyes," he replied. "Not just mako once, but mako many times..."

Pretty winced as she wrapped her sore hands around the hilt, stepping a few feet away and swinging it once across and once down. It would do, if she could hang on to it.

"Come at me," Twenty said, walking a few yards across the gym. "I want to see..."

"Right," Pretty said as she swung the sword one last time, making sure she understood its weight and how much power she could put behind it.

She stepped forward and paused. Five seconds. She could do this. Ten.

Their swords let out an almost painfully loud crack as they met, Twenty blocking her in a perfectly textbook move, pushing her back and swinging a split second later. Pretty blocked, nearly losing her footing but managing to push Twenty away before regaining her bearings and kicking out, nearly catching behind his knee.

Twenty jumped back, sword in front of him, trying to hold her at a distance. But with the practice swords, neither had any advantage with reach. He was bigger, but Pretty knew she could be quicker.

Left. Right. She fell into motion that she knew so well that she didn't need to think about it, pushing Twenty back without realizing what she was doing. She could dodge and block anything he tried, almost as though she knew what...

Nearly getting wood cracked against her right shoulder, Pretty realized that she did know every move Twenty was going to make. She knew how to block them. Twenty was still using Sephiroth's style and reactions, something not fitted for a practice sword at the very least. While her Sephiroth had continued to grow and adapt as a swordsman, Twenty was obviously still learning from his own memories.

She jumped and spun, lashing out with her wooden weapon as though she had the real thing in hand, trying to mimic moves that weren't hers, moves she hadn't quite turned into something she could easily do, things that seemed so completely off the wall that they'd be laughable in any other situation.

Twenty was sweating and she still felt as though she was warming up. Cloud would have knocked her down a few times already. Sephiroth would have tried to persuade her to try offensive magic. She wanted her materia. She wanted her own weapon.

She wanted to get better.

Against the wall, Twenty made one last, strong attempt at a block just as Pretty swung.

Dr. Ysole raised her hands to her ears - the crack from their swords meeting was qualifyingly ear-splitting.

Reeve's jaw dropped.

Pretty dropped her sword, clutching at her left hand and wanting to cry as it revolted on her in sharp pain.

And Twenty simply held the shattered remnants of his own sword, staring wide-eyed as though he'd never been so horrified in his life.

"S...Sorry," Pretty managed, not quite able to look up and see Twenty's expression for herself. Her hands throbbed. She wasn't sure how tightly she'd been gripping her sword, but obviously she'd overdone after all.

But other than that pain, she felt good. She felt really good.

Applause distracted her. Reeve was clapping, a smile on his face as he stood and began to cross the wooden floor, his dress shoes clacking with each step.

"You..." Twenty said softly. He knelt to pick up Pretty's sword to look at it.

Pretty winced, but this time not from the pain radiating from her left hand. No, yet again she'd gone and told too much, even if hadn't been her mouth that she'd needed to worry about.

"I see that Cloud has passed on his skill," Reeve said, reaching to take Pretty's aching hand. "Did you get hurt?"

"From the IV," Pretty said. "When they switch hands, it'll hurt for a few days. I was holding the sword too tight."

"Cloud..." Twenty repeated. "I know that name."

"This is Cloud's adopted sister," Reeve explained. "That's why she's... really good."

Really good? Pretty honestly hadn't thought of herself as anything more than second rate compared to Sephiroth and Cloud. But she also hadn't done any fighting against anyone else to be able to gauge herself.

"And you said you were out of practice," Twenty stated. "That wasn't..."

"I should have been able to knock you down in the beginning," Pretty said, playing the fight back over in her mind. "You nearly got me a couple of times because I wasn't paying enough attention to angles. Um..."

"Is your hand okay?" Dr. Ysole had appeared, bag in hand.

"Just sore," Pretty said. "No bruises. I didn't get hit."

"How do you feel?" the doctor asked, reaching to feel Pretty's forehead. "Not too hot."

"A little tired," Pretty admitted, actually stopping to assess something other than her hand. "Hungry."

"I'd like to see you fight with an actual weapon," Reeve interjected. "Though I think I'd worry about both of you. Twenty, I don't suppose any of the others could match her skill..."

"Twentytwo is faster," Twenty said, pausing to think. "Twentyfour has a more impromptu style."

"Then I can do this again?" Pretty asked, knowing that as long as her hand ached, she was done for the day, resigned to the file box and likely a physical exam.

"Well, after a..." Dr. Ysole began, only to be interrupted by Reeve.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Ysole, I think Pretty still needs quite a bit of recovery time, but part of that obviously needs to be this sort of activity.

Dr. Ysole frowned. Pretty smiled. And a brief flicker of worry passed across Twenty's face but he looked away so no one could see.

* * *

With the main lights of the stable turned off so the chocobos could rest as well, Cloud was sitting cross-legged on a mound of straw he'd basically converted to a bed by throwing a pair of old blankets over it. Not that there were many nights that he stayed out with the birds - sometimes if he was expecting an egg to hatch or sometimes when tensions in the house ran too high... An electric lantern buzzed softly from where it rested on a crate a few feet away, lighting the small area well enough that Cloud could continue working on the entry forms for the Gold Saucer that he had discarded the day previous and not gotten back to.

He did enjoy racing because he did have good birds. After the entry fees, each race he won paid back more than enough to take care of his travel expenses. And each breeder or racer who came visiting afterward to buy from his stock - that took care of feed and supplies for the rest of the year.

"Coming in?"

Cloud wasn't particularly surprised that Sephiroth had managed to silently wander through the barn. That was no new trick.

"I will," Cloud replied, pausing with his pen against paper. "I still have five more pages and I don't think I'll get to them tonight anyway."

"Are you going to let Cid ride in a race again this year?" Sephiroth asked as he crouched down to peer over the top of Cloud's paperwork.

"Do I have a choice?" Cloud asked back. Every year Cid promised to knock a few gil off the travel fare if he could ride in a race. At least Cid usually won. That made it all the easier.

"More than likely not," Sephiroth admitted. "I wish I could go watch..."

Cloud frowned. That was about the only thing he didn't like about heading off for a couple weeks to race - there was absolutely no way that Sephiroth could travel too. Though so many years later, Cloud also couldn't help but wonder if anyone really would recognize a sun-baked man wearing very dark sunglasses.

"Maybe in a couple more years," Cloud suggested before finally tapping the papers against the notebook he'd been using as a hard surface to get them even. Tucking them inside, he set the whole thing against the crate holding the lantern and let himself be pinned in place by green cat's eyes that conveyed quite a few ideas at once.

"I thought you wanted me to come in," Cloud finally said, trying to verbally bat at the thick tension forming in the air. Sephiroth would pounce. He just didn't know when.

"After," Sephiroth said softly, inviting himself into the space beside Cloud, pushing up Cloud's shirt with one hand as he caught Cloud's mouth with his.

Not about to push Sephiroth away - not when the day was going so well and just the slight exhale of Sephiroth's breath against his neck shot arousal through his body - Cloud reached to find the buttons of Sephiroth's shirt, trying to undo them one-handed.

Almost effortlessly, Sephiroth shifted their positions, putting Cloud on top of his body to be able to work the pesky buttons free. Gasping, Cloud couldn't help wanting to thrust against Sephiroth as he shifted downward a bit and their covered arousals brushed together.

Tracing the contours of Sephiroth’s neck with his tongue, Cloud pushed Sephiroth's shirt open, revealing tanned skin that looked even darker in the dim lantern light. Taking a nipple between his teeth, Cloud flicked at it with his tongue, almost wanting Sephiroth to be loud enough to wake the birds.

He could feel Sephiroth's erection pushing at his stomach as he slid his body downward, teasing Sephiroth's other nipple with the same care.

They'd made it - the Turks would be gone in the morning and their secret would be safe. Wondering if so much of his distance for the last few days had been partly fear, Cloud could understand why this was his automatic response. This was what they came back to - connection and drowning in each other's bodies.

His hands worked quickly at Sephiroth's pants, fairly sure button and zipper were instinctual these days, licking at the tip of Sephiroth's arousal before even getting the material away to expose the rest. Cloud couldn't help himself - he wanted.

That morning, Sephiroth had wanted. Now it was his turn. Cloud knew that Sephiroth wouldn't have come out to seduce him without lube so he dug at Sephiroth's pockets, finding a nearly empty tube after a moment of listening to Sephiroth try not to chuckle at the entire scene.

"Stay quiet or you'll wake the chocobos," Cloud murmured, slipping away to take off his own clothing and giving a second for Sephiroth to slide out his already half-off attire.

"I'm not the one who needs to stay quiet," Sephiroth replied, holding out a hand to beckon Cloud back to him.

If Sephiroth ever, for a second, thought that even now he could be resisted, Cloud knew otherwise. He could feel the pull deep within him.

Mouths locked in a deep kiss a moment later, their hands tangled together as they spread lubricant over one another's erections, hands stroking the same steady rhythm, together. Cloud broke the kiss to moan as one of Sephiroth's hands slid upward to press a pair of warm fingers into his body.

"Ah... Seph..." he managed, his voice breaking before he could even realize what he was saying. "A...Angel..."

Just fingers weren't enough, teasing him within towards an end he imagined differently. Pulling his body upward, he reached down to help guide Sephiroth into him, grasping Sephiroth's erection and moving to where those fingers had been.

He didn't bother with slow - slow wouldn't have worked. Cloud needed and wanted, letting his body take in Sephiroth's length without pause, trying to be quiet but failing in the end. For a minute he didn't move, trying to breathe even as strong fingers started toying with the tip of his own arousal, sliding around the head before wrapping lower and waiting.

When he moved, that hand moved, stroking him just as he could well imagine Sephiroth felt, deep in his own tight heat. Not able to keep from racing to release, he let his body rise and fall over Sephiroth's, unable to keep his eyes from meeting Sephiroth's and locking.

Had he ever really doubted? Looking into Sephiroth's eyes, he thought he could see everything. Each motion of their bodies was almost secondary until the tension tightening within him pushed past even the moment itself and Cloud let his body fall against Sephiroth's, his semen hot against his own stomach.

Not sure which name he was crying as he let his body be moved again, Cloud just clung to Sephiroth, settling against the straw bed as Sephiroth thrust deeply into his body, almost forcing his own climax to be able to settle beside Cloud. For a moment they clung to each other, bodies still shuddering at intervals.

"What are you thinking?" Cloud asked a few minutes later, knowing moments of silence likely were resulting in some strange plan or other. He hoped Sephiroth wasn't thinking about the sagging shutters on Cottage #3. They'd already had that discussion earlier.

"I don't know," Sephiroth replied, sounding fairly honest in his confession. "I just have this feeling that something isn't quite right."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of decision, Rae brings lunch, and the first of many confrontations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feb 9, 2006. (minor edits)
> 
> ~~I cheated and read ahead!~~

Silence.

The Turks were finally gone.

Cloud smiled as he flopped back on the bed most recently occupied by Elena, not even thinking much of her lingering scent on the sheets. Even though there was only a day until nice, sane and normal guests arrived, Cloud reveled in the quiet.

He'd just tightened the screws on the bathroom medicine cabinet door, one of those things he never personally thought to check but Elena had mentioned it on her way out. And he wasn't like Yuki, able to keep a thousand-task list in his head and get them all done in a day. No, he had to do things while he was thinking about them or he'd forget. Especially little trivial fix-it chores.

"Cloud?" Sephiroth's voice called into the cottage. "Mail's in."

"Anything from Pretty?" Cloud asked, getting to his feet and grabbing the screwdriver he'd dropped on the floor.

"No," Sephiroth replied. "I'm sure she just hasn't realized how long it's been."

"What if something's wrong?"

"Vincent would tell us," Sephiroth said flatly. "I know that and you know that. We all have our own motivations... But even if he hasn't been entirely truthful with us, it has absolutely nothing to do with Pretty."

"You're right."

A tense bit of silence settled over them both, lingering as Cloud started picking up the stray towels that Elena had left draped over a pair of wooden chairs to dry.

"You're curious, aren't you?" Sephiroth asked, finally, sitting down on a twice-recovered easy chair and kicking his feet up onto the crate that served as a coffee table.

"Huh?"

"About... the clones."

"I am," Cloud admitted, suddenly feeling a swell of emotion springing up from within him. "Even if you don't think you owe them anything, I... Those experiments were done on me, too!"

"Cloud..."

"But if they're sick - if they actually need the care..." Cloud couldn't find the words to express everything he wanted to say. He didn't really understand it himself, if only because of a nagging fear that neither of them really were who they thought they were.

"I told myself that... I'd never try to... They aren't my puppets. You aren't my puppet," Sephiroth said before looking up at the ceiling. "But..."

"But what?"

"They deserve their own lives," Sephiroth concluded as he shifted his gaze to Cloud, his eyes a clear green with an intensity that made Cloud shiver a little inside.

"Yes, Sir..." he managed, swallowing hard.

* * *

"Do you always eat this much?" Twenty asked as Pretty finished off her third plate of pancakes.

"These are good!" Pretty exclaimed as best she could for having her mouth full. "The ones I make at home are from a box but these are fresh, I can tell!"

"Don't push your recovery," Dr. Ysole reminded her, reaching a hand out towards Pretty's plate.

"Just a couple more..." Pretty begged in response. She frowned when she was denied.

They were all sitting in the cafeteria again, in a back corner by themselves. Reeve had wandered off after his phone rang, leaving just the three of them to enjoy a full breakfast.

"You're really Cloud's sister?" Twenty asked for what had to be the fourth or fifth time. Each time he asked, he smiled as though he was remembering something from a distant, happy past.

"Well, not so much his as..." Pretty stopped herself and winced for a moment before trying to think of a better way to phrase it. "I mean, I live with both Cloud and the owner of the place where we all work."

"And what do you do?" Twenty questioned with a smile on his face.

"Well, we have a nice little resort with cottages and there are hot springs and chocobos to ride..." Pretty explained. "I cook and clean and fold and clean and lead tours and clean and when beasts are spotted near the village, I go help cut them into little tiny pieces."

Dr. Ysole brought a hand to her mouth, apparently not quite expecting that from her patient.

Twenty just laughed and nodded. "You've been well-trained. It was almost like you've fought me before, though."

"You think?" Pretty commented carefully. "I think you were just not being very creative with your moves. Next time, I'd love to show you a few things!"

"Well, if the doctors approve..."

"I'd hardly try to stop two young people with such unique chemistry," Dr. Ysole said softly. "But I don't want any disruptions to your progress and I want things in this facility to stay quiet. Mr. Valentine was a bit worried about letting Pretty meet with any of the other patients, but..."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Vincent walked into the other end of the cafeteria, at the end by where the food was being served.

Before it clicked into her mind that it might not be the smartest thing to do, Pretty had already called out to him.

In an instant, Pretty was on her feet, halfway through the room before he even realized who she'd been sitting with. And Pretty could see his expression change from one of soft amusement to one bordering very closely on sheer horror.

"Pretty..." he said, reaching out to push some of her stray hair off her face. "You're up."

"Yeah," she replied, realizing he still had a hand on her head and was keeping her from turning.

"Who's this?" a voice asked from behind Vincent. Two men stepped around him, one on either side so that they could see Pretty and she could see them.

"A patient," Vincent replied coolly. "And a friend."

"You know Vincent?" Twenty had snuck up behind Pretty to rest a hand on her shoulder and grinning.

"He brought me here," Pretty said, suddenly sure that something bad was about to happen.

"Mr. Valentine, this young woman is simply astounding," Dr. Ysole interrupted as she joined the group. "Reeve was more than impressed with her fighting abilities and she claims to be at just a fraction of her full-recovered skill."

"You let her..." Vincent shook his head. "She's in no condition to be fighting."

"I believe her condition is my field of expertise," Dr. Ysole snapped. "Despite your medical background, Mr. Valentine, I am the doctor."

"I know what you are," Vincent replied equally sharply. "I'm just expressing my concern for the woman I brought here and expected to be kept safe."

"She nearly beat the stuffing out of me," Twenty said. "And I'm no pushover."

"She what?" one of the other men asked.

Finally Vincent dropped his hand and Pretty felt safe to turn her head to look at them. Gasping, she couldn't help but reach a hand up to touch the thin pair of glasses that shielded green cat's eyes.

"You look a bit like Sixteen," Pretty said with a smile. This clone had shorter hair, though, and a slightly different chin. He seemed shorter, too, but just a bit.

"Pretty?" Vincent questioned.

"Really," Twenty continued. "She broke a practice sword. With Mako poisoning."

"I want to fight her," the second of the clones said. "I want a new challenge. It'll be good."

"This is Twentyfour," Twenty said, drawing Pretty to the other clone. "And the near-sighted one is Seventeen."

"Hiya!" Pretty said, trying to bow before remembering that Twenty was still leaning on her. They both stumbled a step, leaving Pretty clinging to Vincent and Twenty on the floor, laughing.

"If you'll excuse me," Dr. Ysole said softly, glancing at her watch, "I really must make my rounds."

"Thanks again, Doc!" Twenty said as he tried to get to his feet in time to grab the door for her. "I'll see you later."

"Twenty, why don't you go with your brothers?" Vincent suggested as he set Pretty back on her feet. "I'd like to speak with Pretty in private."

Nodding, the three clones moved off, leaving just Pretty and Vincent alone.

"I'd suggest you sit," Vincent said. "And I'm also fairly sure you aren't incredibly happy with me right now."

"I'm sure you have your reasons," Pretty said. "But..."

"I had instructed Perrin and Ysole not to let you speak with any of the other patients," Vincent said. "I chose to risk everything because I didn't want you to die. However, I... There was no way I could explain just why I didn't want you seeing anyone."

"But... why?" Pretty asked. "They're people. They aren't... I mean... Angel..."

"Pretty, I can't tell them about Angel," Vincent explained. "I can only hope that Cloud and Angel were smart enough to avoid the Turks that accidentally ended up in Mideel. They're the ones who hunted down all the clones... with assistance from the last surviving research scientists from the project who continue to monitor the health of their creations."

"Dr. Ysole... Dr. Lothaire..." Pretty could feel tears threatening to burst from her eyes. The wonderful doctors who took such good care of her - they were the bad guys? "No..."

"I've spent the last couple of years lying to everyone," Vincent said. "Bearing everything myself. I want Angel and Cloud to be safe. I want these men who never asked to be created to be safe. I want you safe."

"Well it's biting you in the ass," Pretty surmised.

"Indeed it is," Vincent agreed. "So I suppose the only thing I can do now is introduce you to the other five."

"You'd do that?" Pretty asked, reaching across the table to grab both of Vincent's hands in hers. The metal didn't bother her at all anymore. She was used to being touched by it, after all. She was used to its constant chill against her skin. "Oh... But..."

"We'll discuss your return to Mideel another time," Vincent said softly. "For now, why don't you just worry about a full recovery."

* * *

A tentative knock at the back screen door distracted Cloud momentarily from attempting to get bloodstains out of one of his more favored pairs of pants.

And since he had just taken them off after two hours of intense, painful sparring during which he'd perfected the sword-leap and also managed to crack his head against the porch roof (neither of which had anything to do with the blood), in order to get the blood out, he was standing at the kitchen sink completely naked. Other than a couple of perfectly wrapped bandages which did have something to do with the blood.

"Cloud?"

"Rae!" Cloud exclaimed, grabbing at the screen door once he realized her hands were being occupied by a large bag. "And I'm naked."

"Indeed you are," Rae confirmed, peering over the top of the bag. "I heard your guests left so I brought lunch. But get some pants and your boyfriend first. I'm not going to sit down to a meal with someone naked."

"Yes, Ma'am," Cloud replied, letting her into the kitchen before heading down the hallway to the stairs himself.

"Angel," he called a moment later. "Rae's here with food!"

When he didn't get a response, he peeked into the office to see if Sephiroth was on the phone. The office was empty though, save for the sparkling dust particles that had to have migrated from the attic.

"Angel..."

Just as he turned to head up the stairs, a pair of pants landed on his head.

"Rae's here with food and you answered the door naked," Sephiroth said as he descended the stairs. "I heard you. I just figured it made more sense to cover your ass than..."

"You're just in a sadistic mood today," Cloud grumbled as he stepped into the clean pair of pants.

"As if you didn't enjoy every second."

"I liked those pants. I mean, yes I've lost decent pants because some beast decided to make them air-conditioned, but you..."

"Actually, the blood came right out," Rae called from the kitchen. "Cold water and a little cleaner is your friend."

"I suppose we see if Rae has forgiven you for a restaurant full of Turks," Sephiroth commented. "If we get food poisoning, that'll mean..."

"I can hear you!"

Cloud never actually forgot why he liked Rae so much. But sometimes a little reminder went a long way.

"I think," Cloud said as he double-stepped past Sephiroth and into the kitchen, "that you were supposed to hear him."

"So now that ten thousand strange things have happened," Rae continued as though everything was perfectly normal. Cloud's pants were out on the porch rail already and she had half of the bag of food unpacked onto the table. "Please tell me what is going on. I don't care how weird or long or whatever the story is. I have time and not only will I believe you, I'll keep it quiet. But I can only assume it goes back much, much farther than six years ago. Or eight years ago. Or even ten..."

"Once upon a time," Sephiroth began, reaching to open the cupboard to get plates, "the world stopped making sense."

"You do have your memory back, then," Rae concluded with a smirk. "I'd thought so. I remember one day you were just sort of wandering around with this look... Like you'd solved the mysteries of the universe or something. Happy, but really sad, too. That's how I felt."

"It's not that simple, Rae," Cloud said, helping her with the last of the containers within the bag. She'd brought them a feast of sandwiches and sides, likely all handmade personally that morning.

"I can only imagine," Rae replied with a chuckle. "But this is Mideel. We don't care that you all defected from ShinRa and have wings and whatever. That's the first thing I learned when I ended up here - no matter who you are... or were... everyone is more than willing to let you start over."

"For which I'm grateful," Sephiroth admitted as they all sat down to eat.

"You aren't going to tell me any thing else, are you?" Rae asked cautiously. "What about Vincent?"

"ShinRa did some inhumane science experiments," Sephiroth replied. "He, Cloud and I are all survivors of that time."

"You..." Rae stammered. "And Pretty?"

"There was a special program being planned once the further effects of Mako on women had been verified," Sephiroth said. "Based solely on her fighting capabilities when she first washed up, if she somehow wasn't a ShinRa guard, she was at least trained to take care of herself. But nothing beyond that, to the best of my knowledge."

"Vincent."

"Caught between a rock and a hard spot," Cloud said. "We aren't entirely sure what he thinks he's doing, other than he... Pretty is safe with him. I think that's about the only thing we know for sure."

"I brought you lunch and you aren't making me feel any better."

"Oh, you mean that Cloud answering the door naked didn't help?"

"I'm sitting right here," Cloud mumbled, wondering why he always had to be the receiving end of things.

"You will let me know when you hear something, though..."

"Yes," Sephiroth promised. "I'm just fairly sure that she's lost track of time. Remember the last time we let her go anywhere..."

"Too well, unfortunately," Rae finished with a sigh.

Cloud frowned. He never had actually gleaned the story about everything Pretty had done before stumbling into Nibelheim that night six years before. And looking at the combined faces that Sephiroth and Rae were making, it couldn't have been entirely good.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud bemoans someone's choice in dish soap, Pretty waxes dramatic with both Twenty and Seventeen. Vincent has to watch his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted June 15, 2006--   
> ~~the slip begins~~
> 
> (minor edits)

"This feels almost normal," Cloud noted as he climbed over the fence of the chocobo pen and landed just beside Sephiroth.

"I know," Sephiroth replied. "Quiet, but normal."

"I tried to call Vincent again earlier, but all I got was a 'tower-busy-error-something' message," Cloud commented. He glanced back at the stable. "Night chores are done. I had just checked on Qui, who has an egg..."

"Hence sneaking out the barn door?" Sephiroth inquired.

"Qui was an S-Rank in her day. Even if the chick isn't a racer, it'll be a good sale," Cloud said. "Though I know... Don't count my chocobos before they've hatched."

"At least you have a distraction."

"I'll call again in the morning."

They had fallen into step while crossing the lawn back to the house, bodies close but not connected. Cloud glanced up at the waxing moon for a moment before speaking again.

"I don't suppose you..."

"No," Sephiroth said firmly. "Not without a bit more information."

Cloud jumped the porch steps and grabbed at the screen door, holding it open. The night wasn't cold, but cool enough that once they were both inside he closed the inner door as well.

"No one did dishes today."

"Matsuko was going to if she had time, but I think Hikari came and picked her up early," Cloud said. "I guess I can start on them. They aren't bad..."

"It's quiet without the Turks."

"Whoever said we had to have some sort of commotion for it to be normal?" Cloud shuffled most of the dishes out of the sink before kneeling to look for the dish soap in the cabinet beneath. "Put dish soap on the list. We're nearly out."

"I thought being in each others lives caused a commotion to begin with," Sephiroth said. "And in the last few years we've had quite a few adventures, even if they've been close to home."

"Point. Who bought the flowery stuff anyway?" Cloud pointed at the soap. "I'm going to smell like roses."

"Freesia," Sephiroth corrected. "It isn't a bad scent, though I guess it's a little strong."

"If you like it so much..."

"You volunteered," Sephiroth interrupted. "And I haven't been through today's mail properly. I'll bring it out here to keep you company."

"There aren't that many dishes."

"There isn't that much mail."

Cloud shook his head as he watched Sephiroth vanish down the hallway, silver hair unbound and brushing against the backs of his knees as he walked.

Almost without thinking, Cloud reached back to pull at where his own hair had gotten long and had to be bound back when working.

"Freesia," he mumbled before returning to the dishes.

* * *

"Feeling okay today?" Twenty asked as he jumped up to crouch on the end of Pretty's hospital bed. The thing shuddered for a moment, causing Pretty to grab at the sides. "Don't worry - these things are durable."

"Apparently," Pretty whispered. "Ah... I'm sorry about..."

"No need. I mean, you're sick after all," Twenty replied. "Vincent seemed worried about you, though. You must be his girlfriend."

"I..."

"Sixteen was just as worried though. He tried to come see you last night but Doc Perrin wouldn't let him," Twenty continued. "I kinda snuck in myself, but..."

Pretty couldn't begin to think of someone who clattered around so noisily as doing any sort of sneaking.

"I guess I pushed too hard yesterday," Pretty announced. "I didn't mean to make anyone worry."

"You'll be fine," Twenty commented as he settled down to sit cross-legged where he'd been crouching. "Doc Ysole said that everyone could visit you tomorrow, though, if you were up to it."

"Everyone?"

"Vincent said something about you wanting to meet all of us... Us Numbers, I mean. Because I guess you have some understanding of what we are... And why..." Twenty trailed off, looking lost for words.

"Numbers..." Pretty liked that.

"Sixteen thinks of us as nothing but empty things, almost without value," Twenty said. "But... we're something. Even if we've all been made from the same whole... Sixteen has been so quiet since he met you."

Right. Pretty frowned. Because she had told him that the real Sephiroth was still alive and living in peace. Without worry. Happy.

"When I'm better, we're all going to get out of here," Pretty said. "When I can fight again, because I think we'll have to..."

"What?" Twenty's eyes were wide. "Where did...?"

"I can promise you somewhere safe," Pretty replied.

"Not... I don't... Even if you could take us there, Twentyseven might not be able to make the trip," Twenty said. "He is sick. Sicker than you. He..."

The door swung open, revealing a stern looking Doctor Lothaire.

"No visitors," he announced, glaring at Twenty.

"Aw, c'mon Doc," Twenty pleaded. "I'm not taking up much space."

"Let her rest today," Dr. Lothaire reiterated. "No visitors. Not even Vincent or Reeve, who both wanted to see her."

"Fine..." Twenty slid off the bed and started slinking towards the door. "Tomorrow, then!"

"Tomorrow..." Pretty replied, hoping that their conversation hadn't been overheard.

* * *

Before Cloud realized that he was actually awake and not still dreaming, bright green eyes were watching him intently from just inches away.

"Good dream?" Sephiroth asked as he reached down to stroke the erection that Cloud hadn't even realized he had.

Moaning, Cloud closed his eyes. Always Sephiroth. Always. Just like when he'd been younger, he still dreamed about something he had anyway.

"Better have been about me."

"It was... ah, it is. I am still dreaming, right?" Cloud managed.

"Of course," Sephiroth replied. "Though I seem to have lost my place in the script."

"No... I did..." Cloud shifted, crawling onto Sephiroth and straddling him, pushing away the blankets as they kissed. "...was doing something like this."

"What was I doing?"

"Moaning. Softly... I think... You... Want..."

"Like this?"

Cloud nipped at Sephiroth's collarbone as hands slid over his buttocks and settled low, searching. He tried to stay quiet, but the dream had already left him near-desperate. Thrusting one of his own hands to search along the top of the mattress, he managed to snag the lubricant without much trouble and shift it along to Sephiroth.

"Needy," Sephiroth commented before arching his own body a bit to let Cloud know that the sentiment was shared.

"Don't you dream...?"

"Not often," Sephiroth replied. "I don't need to."

Cloud hissed as a finger pressed into him, the angle a bit awkward as he thrust downward against Sephiroth's stomach, his arousal sliding against muscle. "Ah..."

"You can come," Sephiroth said before adding a second finger and seeking out just the spot that would make Cloud do just that.

"Not without..."

"Go on."

Cloud grabbed at Sephiroth, kissing him fiercely as those fingers dared him to fall into release. He was so close. He felt almost too hot, trying to hold back when his body didn't want anything more than what it thought natural. Sephiroth sucked at his tongue, catching him at the same moment that the hand not already fucking him slid between their bodies to trace the length of his arousal.

He came, wondering why his body was so forceful with release. Raw need tore at him, leaving him grasping at Sephiroth and wondering what he could even begin to give with his own body that would compare to how he felt.

"Cloud..."

"Hmm?"

"Breathe."

"I am..." Cloud mumbled. "I think. Breathing."

"Right," Sephiroth replied, stroking Cloud's back. Cloud could just imagine a smile on his lover's face.

"You..."

"In the morning?"

"Now," Cloud decided as he slowly drew himself up before shuffling downward. "If you don't dream, I can dream for you."

Frowning when Sephiroth chuckled, Cloud didn't think his statement was that funny. Still, neither of them was much of a romantic.

He took the head of Sephiroth's erection in his mouth, licking at what had to be some of his own seed smeared from Sephiroth's stomach. Knowing that Sephiroth could see him quite well despite the dark, Cloud kept trying for a decent show, teasing and sucking before finally settling into a rhythm between his hands and mouth that had worked for the last decade and a half.

This was better than his dream, anyway, Cloud thought a moment later as he cleaned the last bits of semen from Sephiroth's penis and his own lips, letting himself be drawn up into a warm embrace a moment after.

And Sephiroth was chuckling again...

"Your hair..." he whispered... "Freesia?"

* * *

"Gardener, Anne," Pretty mumbled, pulling another folder from her box. There were only a couple of folders left in it and already she was sure that her identity wasn't among them. But, with little else to do, she kept digging anyway, reading each file in full and wondering what exactly had happened that so many women had vanished.

"Angel," she said a moment later. "But... not you..."

She wasn't Anne Gardener, either. Anne had beautiful, short blonde hair and deep green eyes, one of only a few color photos that Pretty had found while looking. She must have been a favorite, Pretty assumed.

Suddenly the thought of finding her own file became less appealing. In the last few hours she'd found some almost humorous reports of bad behavior but she could now well imagine her own file looking like that.

Sighing, Pretty tossed Anne onto the pile that was forming on the floor. Dr. Ysole had given her a new IV mixture and forced a bit more sickening Mako into her body. However she didn't feel much better - if anything, she just felt useless, as though she was stuck in the pattern of fake recovery and impending relapse.

"Paper..."

Reaching to hit the 'Nurse' button, Pretty could only guess that both Cloud and Angel had to be quite worried. She hadn't written yet. She'd been so distracted.

But... She also didn't have any idea how to get a message to Mideel - she couldn't think of anyone who could get a message out of the building that she also trusted.

And Vincent had said that her return to Mideel was something to be discussed later.

"Augh!" Pretty flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. "I want to... I want... I want to be... I don't know!"

"I want a cheeseburger," a voice said. "But the cafeteria is closed for the evening."

"How did you...?"

"You weren't paying much attention and the doors here aren't particularly noisy," Sixteen said from just inside the door. "Twenty already told me that he got in trouble for sneaking to visit, so I thought I'd try to outdo him and not get caught."

"Tomorrow, if I'm better, I can meet everyone," Pretty said. "I met Twentyfour and Seventeen yesterday, too. So... four."

"There are nine of us," Sixteen said. "But... You said that... According to Dr. Ysole, every one of us has been accounted for, including documentation on unnumbered experiments and sundry. The original paperwork doesn't exist, but she has a memory like a trap-cage."

"And?" Pretty was fairly sure that Sixteen had just hit upon the conclusion that she'd been trying to sell him on a few nights previous.

"Maybe you do know the real thing," Sixteen replied. "Twenty attempted to re-enact his fight against you and I can only assume that you could see through his moves because they were familiar."

"You all could- You all could come live with us." Pretty wondered why she wanted to start crying. After only a few days in the facility, she already felt frustrated and trapped. Vincent had said that this project had been running for years. She couldn't imagine....

"No," Sixteen said. "Not all of us. Not easily. Twentyseven-"

"Is sick. I know."

"The lockdown the other night - that was him." Sixteen hadn't settled onto the chair yet, lingering by one of the arms and almost looking nervous. "Twentytwo wouldn't leave him here even for freedom.

"Oh..." Pretty sighed. She was no match for the sort of illness that manifested both mentally and physically -- even if she had managed to calm Sephiroth when his mind ached, she didn't think she could do it again.

"It's a nice dream, though. I've read about Mideel - hot springs shrouded by thick forests, bountiful plains..." Sixteen finally decided to do something more than warily eye the chair, though he didn't look quite comfortable sitting. Instead he stayed anxious, as though he knew any sound outside would require him to dive into hiding.

Pretty nodded. Sixteen to talk to every day and Twenty to spar with... But what Vincent had said mixed with the looks Reeve gave her made her unsure of just if she would ever be returning.

"I hope I can see it again, too."

"What?" Sixteen was on his feet.

"I don't know if they'll let me go back," Pretty admitted. "Dr. Lothaire keeps asking about my memory, and how well I remember things from the past few years..."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Sixteen commented before sitting again, still looking fairly uncomfortable. "He's a doctor and you did lose... everything once before after Mako exposure."

"I know how to call Mideel," Pretty said after a moment of loud silence. "There aren't any phones around here, though - not ones that can call out of the building."

"Talk to Twentyfour," Sixteen said softly. "He likes cables and wires. I'm sure he can find you a phone to call home."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Sixteen said. "And if you call... if you do talk to him... Do me one favor?"

Pretty nodded, even though she already knew.

"Tell him that if he wants us, we'll go to him."

"But..."

"Nothing else will matter," Sixteen told her. "We'll go. Nothing will stop us."

"Okay," Pretty agreed. "But Angel doesn't like talking on the phone, so I'll have to pass the message along."

Sixteen smiled before reaching to take a file out of the box. He flipped it open and shook his head. "No, you aren't Annabel Christopher."

* * *

For a dark, almost desolate bar, the atmosphere was perfect and the interior exquisite. It was the sort of place that had survived, somehow, and hung onto that ambiance even though the two men seated at the darkest table in the furthest corner cared little for ambiance or atmosphere or even the drinks that had been laid out for them.

"Reno will be here soon," Reeve said, checking his watch. "I'm curious if he had a chance to see Cloud. His phone had too much static to be sure of most of what he was trying to say."

"That or he'd been happily acquainting himself with Miss Rae," Vincent said, a slight smile forming on his face. "If you're ever in Mideel..."

Reeve smirked before reaching to where his current drink was gaining a thin layer of sweat.

"You still haven't told me exactly why you're so worried about that girl meeting the patients." Reeve traced a line down his glass before taking a drink from it. "Perrin is sure that she has no memories from before her life in Mideel."

"If she describes even one of them to Cloud," Vincent began, "I am not sure how Cloud would react."

"Plenty of men have silver hair," Reeve noted, gesturing up to where his own was starting to streak. "I... I can't justify keeping her here. Not in good conscience."

"Then..."

"I think that she should continue sparring with Twenty when she can. And eating pancakes. And whatever else she wants to do with her life," Reeve said firmly.

Vincent finally took a drink, only to be pushed over as Reno slid into the booth. A second later, he was on the floor, red eyes focused on him.

"Give me a break," Reno grumbled. "I am never doing that flight again in a jumper plane. No way. Especially not for a false alarm."

"I apologize for that. I hope the vacation more than makes up for the trouble," Reeve said. "Make sure Tseng and myself get copies of all bills you incurred, including any bar tabs."

"Yes, Sir," Reno said with a smirk. "Wonderful bar down there. Personable bartender."

Vincent shook his head. "Did you see Cloud?"

"Getting ready for some chocobo race," Reno replied. "Too busy to even have a drink, but if he's happy, I can't fault him. Gonna have to go back sometime though and stay with him."

"That may not be a good idea," Vincent said before flicking his eyes over to Reeve. "Chocobos can be skittish around loud people."

A good save. Yes.

Not really listening as Reno went on to describe Elena's eating habits and Rude's snoring, Vincent concentrated on his drink. It was neither hard enough nor large enough to take care of the overwhelming feeling of dread welling up within him, separate from his quiet demons but equal in the minds of all of them. He almost asked for their opinions but hesitated.

After all, he seemed to be the only one with a problem.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is passing and Pretty fears she's been trapped. There are forces at work and maybe a few working forces... Decisions are made and the next step is taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original? notes: "Yes, Vincent is in too many corners at once. He realizes that since Pretty knows about the clones, he has to let her meet them all and is willing to do that to make her happy. But he has to keep Reeve in the dark about Sephiroth and Cloud. And (since Reno is keeping his end of the bargain) think he's keeping Cloud in the dark about the clones. Poor guy. He should know that he just can't win."
> 
>  
> 
> Originally posted September 4, 2008 <\-- (time keeps on slipping, slipping...)
> 
> (minor edits - mostly typosoup)

"One phone call," Pretty demanded from the carpeted floor of the hospital ward's waiting room as she paused midway through a sit-up.

"C'mon," Twenty replied as he put a bit more pressure on Pretty's feet. "Two more. Then you can make unreasonable demands."

"This is only ninety-eight?" Pretty asked as her elbows touched her knees. "Fine..."

"Besides, we need to keep quiet until there's an actual plan," Twenty warned her. "Right now, there's no actual plan."

"There's kinda a plan or seven, but nothing really solid because not everyone will talk to me," Pretty lamented as she looked up into Twenty's mako blue eyes. "Why won't they talk to me? Vincent said he'd take me to meet them but he hasn't been around. And was that really only ninety-eight?"

"Two more," Twenty repeated. "Besides, wouldn't you be a little wary of you if, um, you weren't you? We've... kinda gotten used to our imprisonment. Do you think we've never tried to escape before? It's just not that easy!"

Pretty finished her sit-ups in silence. She hadn't thought about it. She really hadn't thought about it. Mostly she'd thought about herself over the last few weeks, about her own recovery and also about getting everyone to Mideel. Of course they'd have to tried to escape before - she should have realized that. But...

But it was a conversation for another time - one when their privacy was a little more guaranteed.

"I feel like goo," she said as she smiled at the security camera and shakily stood. Twenty tried to offer her a hand, but she refused.

"A week ago, fifty sit-ups were doing you in before I had a chance to thrash you around downstairs," Twenty commented as he stretched.

"I didn't work out this much before I got sick," Pretty said. She stretched. "I was mostly a housekeeper... I feel good, though. And like goo."

"Does that mean you don't want to spar?" Twenty asked in a light tone. "We can skip..."

"No!" Pretty exclaimed as she headed for the door. "Let's go! We have time before dinner."

Twenty got to the door before she did and held it open. They both smiled and waved to the nurses at their station by the elevator as they passed.

Pretty had spent a bit of time observing the various nurses who came and went and she had gotten the idea that not a one of them actually seemed to have any idea of exactly what was going on. The likely weren't told anything and probably just thought they were watching a handful of slightly more troublesome mako-poisoned patients than the ones on other, less-bulletproof floors. That made possible escape a little easier. If only the two doctors, Reeve and Vincent knew the truth, then that was only four people to outsmart - not dozens. Though outsmarting four really smart people would be difficult. Pretty knew that all too well from sneaking around back in Mideel. A strategist she was not.

Finally, too, she felt good and like she'd keep feeling good. More than a week had passed and she hadn't had a bad day, yet there had been no talk of releasing her. And no one would listen when she said she may well be cured. Doc Lothaire simply told her it was too early to tell and Ysole kept mentioning the potential for setbacks and needing to tweak pills. All of that could be taken care of in Mideel - Pretty was sure of that.

That was why she knew, once and for all, that she would have to escape. The only thing she didn't want to leave was a chance at her identity - it felt so close... A name, a birthday, maybe even a background. Reeve kept bringing her files and sitting to talk with her, telling her that there was still hope and that he was still finding more and more now-declassified documents.

Pretty wasn't sure, in the end, what she'd do with a name, though. She liked being 'Pretty' just fine and it was what everybody called her. Twenty didn't need a name. Sixteen didn't. A name would just be baggage, in a way.

So she felt selfish about wanting one... And there was no guarantee that a name would bring back any other memories. It might be worse, she feared, to be presented with an entire history she absolutely could not recall. If she had a husband, children... the thought chilled her more and more every time she'd thought of it and had kept her up for more than one night in the darkness, hugging her pillow and staring into the black.

A past was potentially the scariest thing she could think to ever face.

Still, she found herself obsessively looking, file after file, until she had an entire box emptied at her feet at the end of the day.

As she and Twenty stepped into the elevator, Pretty slumped against the wall. Twenty wouldn't let her jump up and down anyway and pretend she was flying.

"We should definitely go with Plan B," Pretty said. The elevators, to the best of their knowledge, were not monitored.

"Which one was Plan B?" Twenty asked. "The one with the fake food poisoning or the one with the lost dog?"

Pretty frowned. "The lost dog was Plan F and that one was silly. Plan D has the food poisoning and it's still a thought."

"I'm going to have to get Twentynine to explain all of the various ways we've not been able to leave before. Including laundry carts, various deliveries, all out violence, cutting the power and many, many others," Twenty said with a sigh.

"Plan B is the one where we're rescued. The one I've been talking about," Pretty stated. "No escaping necessary. All I need is a phone that can dial outside so that I can make a phone call... I only want one phone call."

"Rescued," Twenty echoed as the elevator stopped at the basement level. "I'll run that by Twentyfour. But first, you need to make sure that everyone wants to leave. No rescuing anyone who is happier here."

Pretty wanted to respond, but the moment she and Twenty stepped out of the elevator, they were standing directly in front of Vincent and Seventeen.

"Evening," Vincent said. He frowned.

"What were you doing down here?" Pretty asked, trying to lighten the sudden solemn mood. She hadn't seen Vincent in over a week. She guessed that outside machinations were in place but didn't dare ask. And he didn't seem to be there to visit her. Perhaps he was trying to arrange for her to meet the rest of the clones. She could hope.

"Visiting," Vincent replied cryptically. He wasn't going to elaborate.

"Me?" Pretty asked, trying not to frown. "Good timing. Usually I am down here about now."

"Of course," Vincent said smoothly. "A spar before dinner, correct?"

Pretty nodded.

"We are," Twenty said, putting an arm around Pretty as if to challenge Vincent. "Would you like to join us?"

Vincent opened his mouth but didn't speak right away. "Yes," he said finally. "Okay."

Even Seventeen seemed surprised. "Really?"

"You too," Vincent said as he reached up to rest his good hand on Seventeen's shoulder.

"Me?" Seventeen questioned. "I..."

"It'll be good for you," Vincent replied. "You can fight."

"You have weapons training?" Pretty asked innocently. "What do you use?"

"Spear," Seventeen replied. "But I'm..."

"Awesome!" Pretty exclaimed. She rushed away from Twenty and past Vincent to grab Seventeen's arm and drag him to the gymnasium.

"But..." Seventeen tried. Twenty started laughing. And Vincent followed silently.

"Are there any spears here?" Pretty asked as she stepped into the gym. She surveyed the practice weapons. There were a few wooden staffs, which, she supposed, would do. "I think I know how to defend against a spear. Maybe..."

* * *

Pretty had a couple of new bruises by the time she arrived at the cafeteria, not that she was complaining. Seventeen was not entirely proficient, but she certainly didn't have enough specific experience to defend against him. And she couldn't help wondering if Sephiroth had ever been a spear-user or if he just had a lot of general training. Twentyfour was better with firearms and she'd definitely only seen Sephiroth with a gun a handful of times and mostly, well, he looked silly.

Twenty and Vincent had just practiced a bit of hand-to-hand combat before stepping aside to watch what they'd affectionately dubbed the 'main event'.

Holding her tray and scanning the room, Pretty was thrilled to see Sixteen sitting at a far table with a mostly unfamiliar face. She believed the young blond man to be Twentynine. Though with Vincent at her side, quite literally, her personal agenda needed to wait. But perhaps, she decided as she took a few steps toward their table, she could lead the conversation a bit and see what would be revealed.

"Sixteen!" she called, waving as she bounded over to him. She set her tray down and motioned for Vincent, Twenty and Seventeen to follow.

"Evening," Sixteen said softly. "You seem to come with a group."

"I do," Pretty admitted. "Is that bad?"

"Well..." Sixteen glanced over at Twentynine.

"I'll stay," Twentynine said quickly. "It's okay."

"Evening," Twenty said as he set his own tray down. "Haven't seen you in awhile, Twentynine."

"Haven't wanted to be seen," Twentynine replied. He poked at his dinner with a fork. "I have been busy."

"Busy?" Pretty questioned. "What do you do?"

"I exist," Twentynine replied. Both Vincent and Seventeen sat. "I cause existence. I am existence."

Frowning, Pretty didn't reply. She didn't want to admit that she really didn't get it. Unless, of course, Twentynine didn't really get it himself.

"I managed to almost defeat Pretty," Seventeen said to Sixteen a moment later.

"You fought?" Sixteen asked.

"Quite well," Vincent commented. "I was impressed."

"Do you use a weapon?" Pretty asked, looking at Twentynine.

"Yes," Twentynine replied. "I am a weapon, but one unable to be used or fired. I am a tool not to be wielded by anyone, most of all myself."

"Oh," Pretty said. With luck, someone would paraphrase his response into common speech. No one did. "Well, I use a sword and sai and a bit of magic, though not here..."

"Yes, Sixteen has spoken of you," Twentynine said. "As I assume I have been spoken of."

Pretty nodded. "If you'd ever like to spar..."

"I would not," Twentynine said quickly. "There is no point to honing skills that can never be properly utilized."

"Oh..."

"Twentynine has a bit of a point," Vincent said. "You fight only for exercise."

"Well, with Pretty, we can finally have two full basketball teams," Sixteen said. "Not that I'm thrilled about hearing that you were admitted permanently..."

Pretty froze. She knew that everyone around her knew more than she did. But this was the first she had been assured of her predicament.

"Well..." Vincent trailed off and watched Pretty's reaction. "It may be for the best. You weren't doing well in Mideel."

"Yes, I know," Pretty said, hoping to hide her emotion. "It may be for the best."

Her decision was made because decisions were being made for her - she would give up on her quest for self and devote everything to freeing everyone who wanted to be free. Because she was quite sure that life was not meant to be lived within the walls of a hospital ward.

But until she'd made a bit more progress in her other secret tasks, she couldn't do anything but wait.

Twenty changed the topic. Pretty couldn't help but think that Twentynine's face reminded her of Cloud, but with green eyes and soft, pale blond hair that didn't look it could ever be made into familiar spikes. She wondered if Twenty's black hair came from somewhere in particular. By the time she'd finished her meal, she was so far inside her own thoughts that Vincent's hand on her arm startled her.

"You feeling okay?" he asked. "You're not normally this quiet."

"I'm fine," Pretty lied. "Just really hungry, I guess. Kinda thinking too much about eating, not enough about being friendly."

"As long as Seventeen didn't rough you up more than you thought," Sixteen said almost too-flatly. Twentynine remained silent and expressionless.

"Fine," Pretty said. Physically, she was. The rest was another story.

"I can walk you back to you room," Vincent said as he stood. "It looks like they're closing the cafeteria for the evening."

Pretty nodded and pushed back her chair. She offered a feeble wave to the group of clones and then let herself be led away by Vincent.

"You aren't going back to Mideel," Vincent said firmly once they were in the hallway, heading towards the elevator, alone.

"So I've gathered," Pretty said. "Because you want to keep everyone safe, right? It doesn't work that way. I've been here for weeks. Angel is going to worry about me. He'll..."

"I'll pass along a message that you've decided to stay in Midgar for awhile," Vincent interrupted. "That should ease his mind."

"It won't," Pretty said flatly.

"But you've traveled extensively before..."

"I kept in touch," Pretty snapped, pulling away from him just as the elevator stopped at their floor. "He'll know."

"Pretty, you have to realize just how dangerous the situation could become if Angel was to find out what's been going on here," Vincent said as he stepped into the elevator. "Now come on."

"You need to realize that you're making a mistake," Pretty replied as she stepped on beside him. "You're not protecting anyone."

Vincent was silent until they reached the ward.

"Pretty..."

"And I'll talk to everyone on my own," Pretty snapped as she stormed off the elevator, past the nurses' station and to her room, not bothering to see if Vincent was following her.

A pile of folders was still scattered on the floor and she kicked at them.

"I just need to make one phone call."

* * *

Twentynine, Twentyseven, Twentyfive, Twentytwo and Thirty gathered in Twentyseven's room long after the lights had gone out in the ward for the night, something that did not happen often but was deemed immediately necessary.

"Pretty," Thirty said, almost spitting her name out.

"I'm worried," Twentynine replied. "She knows more than she's letting on. Sixteen says that she knows Sephiroth."

Twentyfive frowned as she reached to brush her silver hair away from her face. "Could she?" she asked.

"She has Twenty on her side," Twentynine said. "Likely Twentyfour and Seventeen as well. Sixteen is trying to be friendly with everyone, but..."

"But does Pretty know Sephiroth?" Twentyfive questioned. "This is important!"

"I don't read minds," Twentynine snapped. He glared at Twentyfive.

"Don't you?" Twentytwo asked. "I've always thought..."

"She wants to leave, doesn't she?" Thirty questioned.

"Yes," Twentynine said. "But I doubt she has a way to go about it that wasn't already tried."

"If she does, can we go?" Twentyseven asked. "I want to see trees."

"Trees," Twentyfive echoed with a laugh. "You want to see trees..."

"Shut up," Twentytwo commanded. "We're getting nowhere."

"We always go nowhere," Twentyfive complained. "So... do we go somewhere?"

"To him?" Thirty asked. "To Sephiroth?"

"Yes," Twentynine said. "I am willing to believe her. She is a talented fighter capable of defeating even Twenty. She knows and understands his techniques. She had no other way of learning..."

"Why are we here?" Twentyseven interrupted with a cry. "Why?"

"Shh..." Twentytwo hushed. "We need to be quiet."

"We're not needed," Twentyfive noted. She smirked.

"Be quiet," Twentytwo repeated. "Just shut up. Let Twentynine and Thirty speak."

"How do we verify this?" Thirty questioned. "I do not suggest making a move without being one hundred percent sure."

"Does Sephiroth want us?" Twentyfive asked. She looked down at her lap. "We're..."

"Look inside yourself," Twentynine said. "That's what Sixteen said to do, but I..."

"We'll do it together," Thirty said. He reached for Twentynine's hand. "We'll ask."

"This sounds stupid," Twentyfive commented.

"What's wrong with trying?" Twentytwo questioned as he took Twentyseven's hand.

"We can try," Twentyseven said as he reached for Twentyfive.

"Oh fine," Twentyfive relented. "But I don't think it'll..."

"Just close your eyes," Thirty snapped. The rest of the group grabbed hands and obeyed. "And... ask. Just... concentrate as hard as you can..."

Twentyfive sighed. And then there was silence.

Far, far to the south and for the first time in a very long time, Sephiroth woke from a dead sleep, screaming.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud gets through on the phone. Sephiroth debates internally. Pretty doesn't get dinner. It's almost time for a breakout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted Dec. 27th, 2012 (<\--slipping, slipping...)
> 
> So yeah, this fic sat around for years with 10/12 chapters. I'd figured out fairly early on that 12 chapters would cover it all, but... depression, job changes, major life/living changes, etc. By late 2012 I had a little more stability in my life and was keen to finish everything up. (I think half this chapter was handwritten for much of the time, even.)
> 
> (minor edits, mostly typos)

A nurse, one whose name Pretty didn't know, knocked almost-cautiously at Pretty's door before entering.

"Miss?"

"Mmm?" Pretty looked up from the pile of personnel files she had scattered on her bed.

"You have a phone call at the nurse's station," she said with a strange waver in her voice that made Pretty frown.

"I do?" Pretty questioned, fairly sure it had to be a mistake. But... She pushed the files aside, hopeful. "Oh, excellent."

She got to her feet and followed the nurse - a new one, Pretty thought. Maybe from another floor? Maybe one who didn't know that phones were off limits. She didn't even think the nurse's station phone could call out. Maybe just in from the hospital switchboard?

"Be quick," the nurse said once Pretty had followed her down the hall and across. She handed Pretty the receiver and then turned to go back clearing off a bulletin board that Pretty didn't think ever had anything useful on it.

"Hello?" Pretty asked almost too softly.

"Pretty!"

"Cloud?" Pretty was so shocked that she didn't know where to begin. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah... What's going on there? I've gotten a bunch of different stories from everyone," Cloud replied. Pretty could hear the worry in his voice.

"I don't really know what I can say," Pretty admitted. If the phone was tapped... It didn't matter. She'd have said what she needed to. And the nurse wouldn't be fast enough to stop her, if she was even in earshot, which was debatable. Pretty was trying to be quiet. "Oh, screw it. Get me out of here. I'm better and they're not going to let me go. But not just me, Cloud... There's..."

"Yeah, we know," Cloud interrupted. "How many?"

"Nine," Pretty replied. "How?"

"Long story," Cloud replied. "You're really okay?"

"Mostly," Pretty said. "The last little bit I can do there, I promise."

"We'll be there soon, Pretty," Cloud said. "Hang in there and---"

The phone cut out, and Pretty cursed. The nurse was still over humming softly and putting up new notices for art classes and things Pretty had asked about but not been allowed to do. But it could have cut for any number of reasons... She wasn't going to worry too much.

Softly, she hung up the receiver. "Thank you," she called to the nurse. "That was my brother, checking in."

"That's nice," the nurse replied with a smile.

"Yeah," Pretty said. "It was good to hear from him."

She turned and walked back to her room in silence. Cloud was coming for her. No... he'd said 'we'. Angel was coming too.

Pretty swallowed hard. She really needed to talk to Sixteen but it was far too daytime for him to be conscious and besides, she wasn't really supposed to be visiting. She'd see Twenty sooner, likely, if he came around to work out after lunch. But that was still hours away.

* * *

Cloud was still holding the phone, listening to the dial tone, when Sephiroth took it from him and carefully hung it up.

"I wish I knew who to be angry at," he said, punctuating his statement with a sigh. "Probably myself."

"No one's fault," Cloud replied. "No one. I think... I think it just... happened."

"Call Cid."

"But he's probably..."

"I don't entirely trust him, no, but I think he'll listen to reason," Sephiroth told Cloud. "Vincent, however..."

"Yeah..." Cloud sighed and shook his head. He had no idea what Vincent was trying to do, but it was hurting everyone. "What are you going to do?"

"Make sure everything is in place here," Sephiroth said. "And then pack. I don't want to waste a second. Not with that many voices screaming."

"Seph..."

"I told them they can come here," Sephiroth interjected. "I told them that they'll be safe here, and can live good lives. I told them... to come to me, but only if they wanted to."

"I didn't hear." Cloud got to his feet and looked long and hard at Sephiroth before dropping his gaze. "I don't know what that means."

"I'm glad," Sephiroth replied, reaching to pull Cloud to him. "I don't ever want to do that to you again..."

Cloud leaned into Sephiroth, relaxing. He wasn't sure how to feel. Not when he knew at some point he'd have to figure out who he was all over again. Being... free was more than he'd ever expected. Somehow, he thought some part of him would never be fully unentwined. But perhaps it didn't have to be anywhere but...

He didn't pull away from Sephiroth's kiss. Certainly, Sephiroth would always hold sway over him. But only like this. Only what they'd built and kept building.

"She said there are nine of them," Cloud commented once Sephiroth release him.

"I think we can make room," Sephiroth replied with a chuckle.

"I'll call Cid. And Tifa. She was willing to go if I couldn't get through."

"I'll call everyone else."

Cloud was fairly sure that meant that Sephiroth would be gone for most of the day. But that was okay. There was a lot to be done and they had a bad habit of distracting one another.

* * *

"What did you do?" Twenty asked, watching as Twentyfive stalked into his room and settled on his bed across from where he sat. He'd been reading an old book on military strategy. Outdated, but something about it felt familiar and good.

"I don't know what you mean," Twentyfive replied, pulling her legs up and under her body.

"Yes, you do," Twenty said. He narrowed his eyes, watching her. Twentyfive was not the type to come visiting. Not him, at least. Twentyfive usually roamed around with Thirty, and Thirty... did not often roam.

"Fine. I'm here to see if you know the answer to a very important question," Twentyfive said softly. "Do you?"

"Yes," Twenty told her. He closed the book and set it aside. "Which only raises an entirely new set of questions, doesn't it?"

Twentyfive sighed. "No. I don't think it does. I think now we just wait, don't we?"

"That's a question."

"I don't want to wait."

Twenty snorted. "As if another few days or weeks or months will kill us."

"But her?" Twentyfive questioned before pausing. "Maybe you're right... questions."

"Pretty? I don't know. I heard she'll be here for awhile longer, which I know she doesn't want." Twenty got to his feet. "If you're here to find out if I'm in, I am in. But you probably shouldn't be found here."

"None of us should have been found anywhere," Twentyfive said softly as she stood. Without another word, she slipped out of the room, leaving Twenty staring after her.

* * *

They ran back into each other after dinner. Cloud had finished the nightly chocobo chores, and Sephiroth had assisted Yuki with cleaning up after a festive barbecue. There was nothing terribly authentic about Yuki's idea of a native party, but the guests didn't care and the events were always popular.

"Did you get anything to eat?" Sephiroth asked, tucking the last bits of leftovers into the fridge for the staff to eat the next day.

"You missed me sneak through between phone calls and chores," Cloud replied. "You were pretty busy."

Sephiroth chuckled as he closed the fridge. "Both of us. But I think the place will survive us taking a few days off."

Cloud nodded as he leaned back against one of the few bare spots of wall that hadn't been decorated with knickknacks of some sort. "Everything is set. I didn't tell Cid too much, but he's a smart guy. I think he knows. And Tifa is on standby."

"When?"

"Two days," Cloud replied. "Part of me wants to ask if we're doing the right thing, but I know we are."

Sephiroth crossed the room and reached for Cloud's hand. Cloud echoed the gesture, and Sephiroth quickly squeezed Cloud's hand in his. "We are. Now, everyone else needs to, too."

There was a bit of a sad look in Cloud's eyes when Sephiroth reached to run his free hand through Cloud's hair. He knew... Well, they both knew far too many things - feared too many things.

Cloud wasn't a thinker. And he was easy to distract.

He didn't pull away from a soft kiss, or a following kiss that wasn't soft at all.

* * *

Pretty sighed as she packed up all of the file boxes. No point in looking any longer, not that she'd really been looking for any reason other than something to do. She knew who she was - she was Pretty, from Mideel, who had been pulled into a patchwork family and was happy.

Twenty hadn't bounded in, Twentyfour hadn't wandered by, Seventeen hadn't slipped in to quiz her on the television news, which she didn't tend to watch anyway.

All of her exercises had been done in solitude. It wasn't the first time she'd had a lonely day, though as the lights dimmed for the evening, Pretty really did hope that Sixteen would visit.

He didn't come.

* * *

"What the fucking... What?" Cid stared at Cloud and Sephiroth as they attempted to explain what was going on, at least as well as they understood it. "I'm going to have to have a few words with that damned old man..."

Cid frowned, turned, and gestured that they'd better follow him onto the Highwind.

All of their fears that Cid had known what was going on the whole time were thankfully unfounded, at least as far as Sephiroth could tell. Cid's reactions seemed wholly genuine.

Neither of them had chosen to take a weapon. Instead, Sephiroth had packed clothing for Pretty, and Cloud had a bag of clothing and necessities for themselves.

"That one's going to be useless," Cid noted with a little gesture to Cloud as they crossed onto the Highwind's bridge. "But you're welcome to help out."

He gave Sephiroth a strange little smile, and Sephiroth nodded in agreement. It would be something relatively new and interesting, at least. Sephiroth glanced around at Cid's crew, all of who seemed momentarily transfixed before offering little salutes. Cid chuckled. Sephiroth finally managed to smile.

"I'm going to go try to sleep through the entire trip," Cloud noted softly. And then he was gone, leaving Sephiroth to help Cid with pre-flight checklists. Nothing about the Highwind was complicated, Sephiroth was pleased to note, and he and Cid quickly fell into conversations about other things.

He was a little surprised when, after the sun set and he was told to go take a turn sleeping, Cloud wasn't in the room they'd been assigned. Though by the time Sephiroth had peeled off his shirt and started washing up, Cloud popped back into the room, a strange little smile on his face.

"Sunset," he said guiltily. "Always looks different from up here."

Sephiroth chuckled. "Well, I think Cid's keeping me on the crew. He's given me a schedule for the rest of the trip, even."

Cloud blinked and then laughed. And then the ship lurched a bit and Cloud suddenly looked very unsure of himself.

"Go lay down?" Sephiroth suggested.

"That's most of what I've been doing," Cloud replied. "Laying down and then going out to get a bit of air. It's keeping me from completely being miserable, but..."

"I've got a ten hour off-shift," Sephiroth interjected. "I believe I was told to sleep, but I can think of other things..."

"Here?" Cloud questioned. Yet he did settle on the bed. "Angel..."

Sephiroth finished washing, and then slid onto the bed as well. "I think I need to. Otherwise, I'm going to keep thinking about what we're doing."

He wasn't going to admit that deep in the back of his mind, he was actually a tiny bit afraid. It wasn't a feeling he was used to. Normally, there wasn't anything that he couldn't handle. But marching, unarmed, into the heart of Midgar to take his family back...

His family. All of them.

Cloud seemed to understand, reaching to pull Sephiroth to him, kissing him cautiously at first. Sephiroth didn't dream of resisting, pleased that Cloud was at least surviving the trip. He'd heard plenty of stories about trips to the Gold Saucer that hadn't been smooth at all.

The Highwind lurched again, though, and Sephiroth pulled Cloud close before Cloud could do anything other than wince.

"It's okay," Sephiroth said. He ran a hand down the warm skin of Cloud's back. "Just a little turbulence."

He didn't want to think. Cloud pulled closer, kissing him again and then it didn't matter where they were, just that they were together.

Cloud's clothing was easily removed, and his own remaining garments were quickly discarded as well.

"Seph..."

"We're doing the right thing." He knew every inch of Cloud's body, but Sephiroth didn't let that stop him. He let his hands wander low, over muscle and then down between their bodies, grasping Cloud's growing erection and giving it a few firm strokes.

Cloud moaned against his shoulder and pressed closer.

"Someone's going to hear us," Cloud mumbled.

"From what I gathered while on the bridge, this sort of thing isn't confined to our room," Sephiroth noted. A few of Cid's crew had definitely paired off, and Cid either was wholly ignoring it or offering his silent consent.

"Not sure if that makes me feel better..."

Sephiroth distracted Cloud with a series of kisses, not slowing with his other attentions, either. It didn't take long for Cloud to start meeting his movements with almost surprising enthusiasm. For a moment, Sephiroth wondered if Cloud was having the same thoughts that he was. They'd talk later, though.

There was no difficulty in hooking the strap of his bag and tugging it over so that he could get the bit of lube that he'd packed. Sephiroth wasn't expecting the trip home to lend itself much to anything aside from Pretty and potential new family, so he hadn't gotten too enthusiastic. But enough... He pushed Cloud's legs apart and reached down between.

"Angel..."

"Relax, Cloud."

* * *

Pretty managed to catch Seventeen at dinner.

"It's been days. Why is everyone avoiding me?" she questioned, getting firmly between him and the door he was heading towards.

"We're not," Seventeen said. "It's not you. There's just..."

Pretty tried to stare him down from below.

He sighed. "Come with me."

Hoping that she'd get a chance to nibble off his tray, Pretty followed.

Seventeen didn't say anything as he guided her through a series of back hallways to a conference room of some sort. Twentyfour was guarding the door and eyed Pretty when he saw her.

But Seventeen nodded at him and he stepped aside.

"We don't have this room for long," Seventeen explained as Pretty followed him in.

She sucked in her breath at the sight of them all.

Sixteen offered her a feeble, tired wave, and Twenty gave her a little smile.

"All of you," she said half to herself.

"Is Sephiroth really coming here?" one of the strangers questioned.

"Yes," Pretty said. She wasn't sure if she should sit or not. There was a tenth seat, but she hesitated until Sixteen gestured. She was so busy debating the seat that she didn't immediately realize that the husky voice belonged to a woman. But then, Pretty stared.

"Twentyfive," Twenty offered, before gesturing to the other strangers. "Twentyseven, Thirty, Twentytwo..."

Both Twentyseven and Twentytwo raised their hands in cautious greeting. Thirty simply kept watching her.

"He and Cloud are on their way, I'm sure," Pretty said. "And I know you'll all be..."

"We know," Thirty interrupted, his tone flat. "We've talked about nothing else."

"Oh..." Pretty wasn't really sure what to say. Was she supposed to say something?

"We're going to accept his offer," Sixteen said, giving a little smile. "I don't really know how it'll work, but... It would be better than this."

Pretty nodded. "I think we were calling the one with the incredibly unbelievable dramatic rescue Plan J."

Twenty opened his mouth and Pretty was waiting for a correction. But none came.

Instead, he just smiled.

"So here's what we're going to do," Thirty said, instantly drawing everyone's attention. "First..."

* * *

There was a strange desperation in their motions, Sephiroth realized as he thrust his erection deep into Cloud's body. Things would never be the same. Everything was going to change. This was it...

No, there'd just be more coffee mugs on the porch railing. There'd be... Cloud cried out and as much as Sephiroth wanted to think about nothing, he couldn't help but focus on how good Cloud's body felt against his and how hard Cloud's cock was between their bodies. He got a hand back around it, stroking it hard.

This wasn't going to last long, even thought it probably needed to. They'd have to talk, they'd have to... Sephiroth thrust deeper, harder, pressing Cloud's legs up a bit higher and making Cloud moan. He kissed Cloud, hard, silencing him for a moment before pulling back just a bit to suck in a bit of air before resuming.

It wasn't an end, he told himself. Not an end - a beginning.

They'd be okay.

Sephiroth met Cloud's gaze for a quick second, seeing the same worry and need in those bright blue eyes. He sped his motions, kissing Cloud again, and working at Cloud's erection until he felt Cloud's body tense under his. He thrust fast, hard, managing to come just seconds after Cloud and almost as a surprise. Focusing so strongly on Cloud, Sephiroth had nearly missed the build in his own body. It left him feeling boneless for a moment, clinging to Cloud, who was murmuring something that Sephiroth didn't think he really needed to fully understand. He knew.

* * *

"I'll let them know we're here."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to have a dramatic rescue when there are taxicabs involved. Nonetheless, a dramatic rescue is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted January 8th, 2013 (<\--into the future)
> 
> ^_^

Vincent Valentine read the transmission from Cid for a second and then third time. While the terms were vague, the message was clear.

Things were being put right and needed to stay right. And he needed to own up to the mistakes that he just kept on making.

There was only one way to do that.

He reached for his gun.

* * *

"This isn't quite the grand entrance I had imagined," Sephiroth noted with a soft chuckle as Cloud paid the taxi driver.

"Well, Cid is working on making our exit a little more dramatic," Cloud noted. "I hope. If he can find a van to rent."

He over-tipped on purpose and then sucked in his breath as the taxi sped off. Now there was nothing between him and the hospital and he couldn't look away.

"That's not much better," Sephiroth replied before stepping forward. Cloud hoped that Sephiroth had a plan. Because he really hadn't thought about much past getting to Midgar. He definitely hadn't thought about how to get into the hospital and get Pretty and the others out, even though everything looked... rather normal. There weren't guards, and the building looked fairly normal. It was even marked as a hospital, and the taxi driver had known exactly where it was.

"Ready?" Sephiroth questioned.

Cloud nodded. "Are you?"

"No," Sephiroth admitted. "But we're going anyway."

The hospital doors opened automatically on their approach, which caused both men to exchange glances. Everything seemed a little too normal for comfort.

"May I help you?" a middle-aged receptionist called from their right side.

"We're here to see a patient," Sephiroth explained calmly, stepping over to her desk. "It's our first time visiting her, though, so we're not sure exactly where her room is."

"No problem," the receptionist replied with a little smile. "What's her name?"

"Pretty," Cloud supplied. "No last name, though she might be using mine - 'Strife'."

The receptionist nodded and turned to her computer terminal. She typed quickly, her expression neutral as she glanced over whatever screen appeared. However, after a long moment, she frowned at let out an unamused noise.

"I'm not sure you'll be able to see her," she said flatly. "She's on the secure floor and visitors are only with the doctor's permission."

"Could you contact her doctor?" Sephiroth asked. "We'll gladly wait. It's very important for us to see Pretty."

"I..." The receptionist looked at him for a long, strange moment before nodding and reaching for her phone. "Sure. Give me just a moment."

"Thank you." Sephiroth reached to guide Cloud over to pretend to examine a small bubbling fountain halfway across the lobby. It would give the woman some quiet in which to call, and while he was sure he'd still be able to hear her, they wouldn't seem like they were hovering.

"Ah, Doctor Lothaire? One of your patients has visitors," Sephiroth heard her say.

There was a pause.

"Yes, Miss Pretty. No, I didn't get their names, but I don't believe they're company employees..."

There was another long pause, during which Sephiroth wandered over to the near wall to pretend to care about previous employees of the month.

"What? Oh... Okay..." She hung up the phone.

"Excuse me," she called. "I'll unlock the elevator for you. You'll have ten minutes as long as you don't agitate her. She's apparently quite ill."

Sephiroth and Cloud exchanged glances again before nodding.

"Thank you," Cloud said. "That sounds reasonable, given her condition."

They followed the receptionist to the elevator where she slipped in a keycard before sending them to one of the highest floors.

They rode in unsettled silence.

* * *

"They're here." Seventeen darted into Pretty's room and behind the door, quickly gesturing for her to be silent.

She got halfway through a nod before Doctor Lothaire gave a quick knock on the half-open door and then stepped in. He seemed wholly unaware of Seventeen, which was apparently what Seventeen wanted.

"Vitamin shot," Doctor Lothaire noted, holding up a syringe that didn't look a thing like anything Pretty had ever been given. Pretty's eyes went wide when Seventeen reached to grab Doctor Lothaire's shoulder and then knock the syringe out of his hand.

"I honestly doubt that was anything healthy," Seventeen noted. "That looked more like the sedatives you keep pumping into Twentyseven."

"What are you doing here?" the doctor demanded, scrambling for the syringe. Pretty scooted off the bed and then kicked it underneath, looking to Seventeen for instructions.

"Not being here for much longer," Seventeen noted. When Doctor Lothaire turned towards him, he easily caught the doctor's hands and quickly brought his knee up to crash into the doctor's chest.

"Come on," Seventeen ordered as Doctor Lothaire slumped to the floor. Pretty nodded, following quickly out of the room and pulling the door shut. One it had closed tightly, Pretty reached to lock the door from the outside.

"What's going on?" Pretty questioned. "Was that...?"

"They're here," Seventeen reiterated, taking her hand and tugging her towards the elevators.

"They're here?" Pretty stumbled half a step before speeding past Seventeen and tugging his hand in turn.

The light on the elevator showed that it had two more floors to go, and immediately Seventeen turned to see if anyone had heard or seen their miniature battle. The nurse at the station seemed undisturbed - she was one Pretty had seen before when she'd gone to dinner or to spar.

"Wait up!" Twenty jogged up a moment later, wearing hospital scrubs and grinning. "You're not going anywhere without me."

The elevator let out a soft ding and Pretty swiveled as the doors opened. She was half-afraid of being disappointed, but there was none to be had. Cloud and Sephiroth were both there, seemingly suffering from the same anticipation.

"Pretty!" Cloud cried, stepping forward. Then he froze, looking past Pretty at Seventeen and Twenty.

Sephiroth had seen Pretty, yes, but his gaze had immediately gone elsewhere. His eyes locked with Seventeen's in an endless moment.

"It really is you," Seventeen whispered.

Sephiroth nodded and stepped off the elevator, making sure Cloud was clear before the doors closed.

"Where are the others?" Sephiroth questioned.

"On their way, Sir," Twenty replied.

"We're going home, right?" Pretty questioned.

Sephiroth nodded and pulled her into a quick hug. "Yes. And you look good, Pretty. I'm glad."

"Almost didn't happen," Seventeen said. "They're trying to keep us all here."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Twentyfive came running around the corner. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the group, but she quickly caught herself.

"They got Twentyfour," she said quickly, barely taking her eyes off Sephiroth.

"What's going on?" the nurse demanded from her station. "You all know there's a noise rule and..." She blinked, apparently just realizing that Sephiroth and Cloud weren't from the normal group of patients. "Wait..."

"It's best if you just pretend not to see anything," Cloud told her before looking at Twentyfive. "You - take us to the others."

Twentyfive nodded.

"Pretty, you stay here with..." Sephiroth paused for just a moment. "Seventeen and Twenty. We'll be right back."

Pretty nodded, not asking how Sephiroth knew their names. She was afraid and for once, didn't really know what to do. This wasn't one of those times where just charging in would do any good.

"Come on," Twentyfive said, gesturing for Sephiroth and Cloud to follow her. A moment later, they were back down the hall and gone.

"Give me one good reason not to lock down the entire unit," the nurse said, shaking her head. "I don't know what's going on, but..."

Apparently, she wasn't going to wait for a reason. A second later, the hall lights flared and there was the distinct sound of doors locking.

"You can't!" Pretty cried, even though she knew it would hopefully keep Doctor Lothaire at bay for just a bit longer. But the others...

The nurse shook her head. "You three can just stay right there til everything has calmed down."

"Sure..." Twenty reached to guide Pretty off to the side. "It's okay..."

Seventeen frowned. There was only silence for a long moment, and then voices from the far end of the unit.

The elevator dinged and a pair of burly orderlies stepped off.

"You're all they sent?" the nurse questioned, shaking her head before pointing down the hall. "I don't know what's going on, but if you find anyone out of their rooms..."

"No."

Pretty was a little surprised by the sound of her own voice as she stepped forward.

"What was that?" one of the orderlies questioned. "I think you'll be safer if you sit back down."

"I will not," Pretty said. She winced as Twenty and Seventeen dutifully stepped behind her. She hadn't really meant to drag them in, even if there wasn't much chance of her winning in a fistfight.

* * *

Sephiroth rounded another corner, close on Twentyfive's heels, only to come face to face with four more of the clones. It took him a second to feel them all out, but then he knew it was Twentytwo and Twentyseven holding Twentyfour up, and Thirty at their side.

"Seph..." Twentyfour managed, trying to reach out.

"Doctor Ysole hit him with something," Twentytwo explained. "I don't know why, other than..."

"Because we're here, probably," Cloud said.

Sephiroth nodded. "Seventeen saved Pretty from the same thing."

"How do you...?" Cloud turned quickly, questioning.

Sephiroth gave him a tiny half-smile. "They're loud," he noted. "But... we need to get out of here."

"Twentynine went to get Sixteen," Thirty said flatly, looking Sephiroth over and then meeting Sephiroth's gaze with his own.

The lights flared around them and there was a strange sound.

"Lockdown," Twentyseven mumbled with a shudder.

"We've got to get going," Twentyfive said. "Sixteen and Twentynine should be that way."

She pointed further down the hall. "Doors can't be opened from the inside at all now and they'll be sending orderlies..."

"We'll go," Sephiroth said, nodding. "You get Twentyfour to the elevator. The others are waiting. Take them and get out of the building and away."

"But..." Thirty started, only to close his mouth and nod. "Okay."

They ran.

* * *

The nurse made a run for it after Seventeen knocked the second orderly out cold. The first still seemed to be conscious, but was choosing the safer option and staying on the floor. No sooner had Pretty glanced up than the group came running half-dragging Twentyfour.

"What happened?" Pretty questioned.

"Doc Ysole shot him up with something," Twentytwo said with a little headshake. "He probably just needs to sleep it off. But..."

"Yeah, we need to get out of here," Thirty directed, pushing past and reaching for the elevator. But before he could, it dinged and stopped.

Pretty braced, expecting another wave of orderlies. Instead, it was Vincent.

He looked at Pretty, looked at the six others, and then gestured for them to all to join him in the elevator.

"There's no going down at this point," he said firmly. "We're going to have to go up."

* * *

"Oh," Sixteen said from where he had an arm around Twentynine, huddled inside of a locked-from-the-outside room, when he looked up to see Sephiroth standing there. "No wonder..."

"Come on," Twentyfive ordered, stepping and reaching for them both. "We gotta go."

"Of course." Sixteen got to his feet, bringing Twentynine with him. "Where are the others?"

"Hopefully on their way out," Sephiroth replied. "Like we should be. Hopefully our ride is here."

Cloud nodded, watching Sixteen and Twentynine with a bit of surprise. He had thought he had been ready, but seeing them all brought so many strange emotions to the surface. He swallowed hard.

"Stay behind me," Sephiroth said, gesturing that they needed to head back to the elevator. The floor, however, was silent, aside from the pounding against one of the room doors.

Cloud blinked once at the hastily scrawled arrow beside the elevator. "I guess we're going up?"

Twentynine reached for the button, but it did nothing.

"They must have cut its power," Sixteen surmised. "We'll take the stairs. There are only two other floors before the maintenance access to the roof."

"Lead the way," Sephiroth said, slipping to the back of the group. It took Cloud a moment to realize that he was trying to keep himself as the most vulnerable of the group. Likely because he was the least vulnerable.

The noise was almost deafening by the time the five of them got to the roof access level. It sounded like the entire building was going to come down.

"What--?" Twentyfive froze and Sephiroth nearly crashed into her.

"Come on," he said, reaching to put an arm around her. "You're safe."

Their eyes met for a quick second and without words, she pulled away, shaking her head and then heading for the open access door.

Only once Sephiroth was outside did he realize what the noise was - it was the Highwind, hovering low, with a rope ladder dangling down. Cid was hanging at the bottom, helping everyone up. And Vincent...

...lowered his gun to gesture for them to get to the airship, he'd stand guard.

"This isn't a van!" Cloud yelled once they were close enough.

"Weren't any big enough," Cid replied. "Figured you might need something a little more impressive anyway."

Sephiroth chuckled, shaking his head before stepping aside to make sure Twentyfive, Twentynine and Sixteen all got up the ladder first. And then Cloud. And Cid...

Then it was just Vincent and Sephiroth standing, watching one another.

Vincent said something that Sephiroth couldn't hear at all. But he saw the way Vincent's mouth moved. Sephiroth nodded and grabbed the ladder, getting one foot on before a wave of orderlies appeared from the roof access door. The Highwind lurched and began to ascend.

And Vincent transformed.

* * *

"Best Plan J ever," Pretty said, running over to Sephiroth once a pair of the Highwind's crew had hauled him aboard and secured the ladder. "Couldn't have done it without..."

She trailed off and looked around.

"Where's Vincent?"

"Making amends the only way he knows how," Sephiroth replied.

Pretty winced but nodded. She knew he'd be okay. She knew... Because he'd saved them all.

And then an awkward silence descended on them all. Cid had retreated to the bridge, and the lingering crew was busy securing the ladder hatch.

Sephiroth glanced around at the nine clones, then to Cloud and to Pretty.

But it was Thirty who finally spoke. "Thank you," he said softly. "Thank you."

"I don't really know what else there is to say," Twentyfive commented before staking out a spot on a crate near where Seventeen and Twenty were sitting with a groggy-looking Twentyfour.

"We're... not terribly adept at having lives of our own, you know," Twenty said before laughing. "I want to apologize in advance."

"I feel like I should be apologizing to all of you," Sephiroth finally managed.

Thirty waved it off. "Let's just take care of Twentyfour for now. And we could all stand to hear a little bit more about where we're headed."

Everyone nodded, even Twentyfour who tried to insist that he didn't feel anywhere near as bad as he looked.

"Home," Pretty said. "We're going home."

* * *

The phone had been ringing off the hook for four days when Sephiroth had finally handed off booking duty to Seventeen and headed into town to pick up groceries and milk. Twentynine tagged along, curious about everything even after months of living in Mideel.

"Hey, Angel!" Kei greeted Sephiroth when he stepped into the post office. "Got a whole pile of letters from you, and a few faxes, and hey, you brought one of your new helpers."

Sephiroth was surprised. That was about the shortest burst of conversation that Kei had ever managed.

"You know, I had a feeling you were going to come in today," Kei continued and Sephiroth flinched. Apparently, she'd just paused to breathe in.

She talked all the way through handing him his mail, which he handed to Twentynine in order to flip through pages of faxes. One was surprising - a four page spread on the resort from a magazine whose name Sephiroth recognized. How had--?

There'd been so much fuss getting everyone settled that a journalist probably had slipped through without a blink.

He skimmed the article, which was glowing and praised everything, from food to activities to the host of beautiful young men employed. It took him a couple of seconds, but finally, he started to laugh.

"What's funny?" Twentynine questioned. "Aside from life, of course. Living is the ultimate comedy."

"Oh, it's going to be a busy season," Sephiroth commented before setting the pages on top of Twentynine's armload of mail. "Probably a lot of single women."

He waved to Kei and was nearly out of the post office before he realized there was one last page, handwritten, from Vincent.

'Hope I can still make a reservation. Almost done with everything here. Ready for some peace and quiet... Or, at least, life without worry.'

"Go on ahead," Sephiroth told Twentynine. "I'll catch up in a moment. I just need to send a quick fax."

Twentynine nodded and headed off.

Strangely, Kei was quiet as Sephiroth flipped over the page and used one of her pens to scrawl a quick response.

'About time.'

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

"Once Reeve found out that Se-Angel was alive and, well, the whole truth, he discontinued all of the Lothaires' funding," Vincent said. He'd made it all the way to the back porch before getting swarmed by clones, Pretty, Cloud and Sephiroth.

Twentytwo had, at least, offered to take his bags.

Sephiroth nodded before reaching for his coffee mug, one of a line that now sat on the railing, to take a couple of swallows.

"And he had most of the data on the program destroyed, aside for what might be useful for the clinic here, should anyone ever get hurt," he continued, gesturing for one of his bags. Twentytwo handed it over, and Vincent quickly unzipped it and pulled out a thick bundle of files.

"I'll take it," Twentyfive offered. "I'll put it in the office until someone goes into town and can drop it off."

Vincent handed it to her, then dropped his voice a bit. "The Lothaires vanished."

"Then..." Thirty started, just to have Cloud shake his head at the youngest of the bunch. Thirty's eyes went wide for a second before nodding. 'Vanished' likely meant at the hands of the Turks.

"How long are you planning to stay?" Sephiroth asked. Vincent had two bags this time, which was more than he ever tended to travel with.

Vincent was quiet for a moment, mulling over his answer before speaking. "I don't know. Until I can find a place of my own down here, I suppose."

"Really?" Pretty questioned. She tipped Sixteen to lean against Twenty so that she could edge closer. "You're staying?"

"I am. Not because of anything before, just..." He glanced around at the group.

"We understand," Twentyfour interjected. "Don't worry."

"And you'll still come to eat, right?" Pretty asked.

"I will." Vincent almost stopped short before reaching down for his bag again. "I also almost forgot - Reeve sent something for you."

"For me?" Pretty questioned, leaning closer. A moment later, she was handed a sealed oversized envelope.

In careful script on the front was her name, and on the back, much smaller above the seal, were two words: 'Found you'.

"What is it?" Cloud asked, standing and walking over to her. "Pretty?"

"Something Reeve and I were discussing," Pretty managed. She traced her fingers over the seal before quickly glancing back at Sixteen. His eyes went wide.

"It's kinda personal," she continued. "I... I'm going to put it in my room and look at it after breakfast."

Before anyone could question her, she got to her feet and sprinted into the house, pausing only as she passed the office to glance in at the paper shredder. So many years looking... And Reeve still looked. It didn't seem right to waste the knowledge.

She bounded up the stairs a moment later, into her room and after a quick glance around, pulled out the bottom drawer of her dresser, slipped it underneath and then put the drawer back.

Instead of joining the others, though, Pretty paused in the kitchen and took a deep breath. She knew once she started, Thirty would be in to help. But even between the two of them, they had a lot of pancakes to make.

And more coffee to make, too.

Before she could reach for anything, there was the distinct tolling of the town bell.

Monsters.

Breakfast could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes!
> 
> I always said I maaaay revisit (at least with shorter pieces) everyone again and while that hasn't happened, it may still happen. There are definitely some stories to be had with everyone settling in. ^_^;;
> 
> tocasia had made a Lucrecia-shaped guess a few chapters back and it reminded me that actually, Lucrecia was originally the big-bad of this arc, though that plot went off in another direction and I scrapped it very early on. I have notes making some of the rejected plot into its own story but I don't know if it'll ever get written in any form. 
> 
> And, as promised-- my notes on the general appearance/traits of the clones. There was another set of notes, iirc with weapon preferences, etc. somewhere so if those turn up, I'll add them in later. (I think they were more detailed, but this has some of the basics...)
> 
> The clones:  
> Sixteen - very similar in appearance to Sephiroth, a bit of a trickster  
> Seventeen - more bookish, wears glasses, calm (and yes, the 'same' Seventeen as in Really Complex Masturbation- steal everything not nailed down, especially if it's already yours)  
> Twenty - looks mostly like Zack, very friendly  
> Twentytwo - looks almost like Vincent  
> Twentyfour - a cross between Seph and Zack, tech-y  
> Twentyfive - the only girl, distrusting  
> Twentyseven - shorter hair, unstable  
> Twentynine - resembles Cloud, quiet?  
> Thirty - much younger, the smartest one
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone who stuck with me for the entire thing. ^_^


End file.
